Love Epidemic
by The Better Side
Summary: What if you had the chance to redeem yourself and start anew? To live your life the way you've always wanted? To have an opportunity at a brand new beginning and an oh so happier ending? Now, the real question is, would you take it? BV
1. Prologue

Obviously, I own nothing.

I decided it was my turn to take those three missing years Akira promptly managed to forget and put them into perspective. Hopefully, you'll enjoy my spins and twists and if not, I appreciate your time reading it either way.

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**_:Prologue:_**

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Beginnings.

The foundation of everything and everyone.

Every person has a dawn. A chance to take off across the starting line and run however many laps they can before the end of the inevitable, long and hard albeit, but _inevitable_ race.

Each person has their own pace as well. Some take it slow and easy, enjoying the cracks and crevasses of the road they walked upon, determined to make the best of it.

While others do no such thing. Their speed is fast pasted and resilient. There is no time to appreciate anything. There is only fear and lounging and the chance to end it all.

And, in rare circumstances, there are people who have _begun_ fighting in the beginning knowing full well that it is the end.

End.

Everything comes to an end. Everything, everyone, every piece of matter. Nothing is forever. Nothing is constant.

But before the end, there came the beginning. And although it may not seem like it, everyone got _both_ of them.

Some just didn't get long enough ones.

And no one, _no one anywhere at any time_, got two of them.

Wasn't that the rule?

Although, I've heard that rules were meant to be broken. Or, at least, _bent_.

* * *

Twelve forty four P.M.

That was the time staring back at Bulma as she tiredly rolled into her bed. It was comfy and big and refreshing. It seemed to take all her frustrations and stress away. There was nothing bad about sleeping. No boyfriends, or _ex-boyfriends_, who could hurt you emotionally, no reporters bugging you, no big, bad, evil aliens tearing you limb from limb. There was just calm and darkness. Nothing more.

Unless of course you count nightmares. But those were just figments of ones imagination gone awry. Usually, everyone awoke from them feeling both frightened yet amused. Because nightmares were just that and they would never take form in the real world.

Suddenly, the door to her bedroom was thrown open and in it, a silhouette appeared. The figure was a male, considerably short, resistant flames of his hair sticking up, the darkened hollows of his face masked in shadows, leaving the rest of his frame quite intimidating.

"Earthling," Came a taut voice from his mouth, most likely hoarse due to his incredibly malicious training. "Get up."

Then again, Bulma thought dryly, one nightmare had taken form. As an evil, snotty, arrogant little troll who apparently thought he was the boss of her even though it was _she_ who had taken him in. "Excuse me? I'm sleeping. Go away." She was in no mood to deal with his unorthodox behavior. Not today.

He, however, had a different agenda. He was equally worn and in no mood for fighting but that didn't stop his cruel persistence. The parts of his face that she could see twitched angrily. "Ask me if I care. I said get up. That blasted machine has malfunctioned again."

_Malfunctioned or been destroyed? _

"I will tell you one last time to rise and come repair it. Do not let my tone fool you, I am not kidding nor will I be in the mood for your frivolous complaints tonight." That said, he promptly turned on his heel and strolled out.

Anger, surprise and resentment all bubbled up at once inside of her. It was not his words that irritated her however but the fact that he expected her to follow his whims hastily without protest. As if she was a trained dog! The nerve of that man who could waltz in at midnight and demand she do as he commanded. His arrogance knew no bounds and seemed to be becoming greater every passing day.

But she did not fret. Instead, she did quite the opposite. Rising up from her bed, she snatched a robe and proceeded downstairs and outside to the Gravity Room Chamber where the widow peaked male was leaning against, obviously waiting.

He looked impatient and on edge. As always. The way he carried himself always reminded her of a predator stalking a much smaller prey. As though he were ready to attack at any moment. Never at ease, always on guard, distrust in every inch of him yet in control at every turn. His reckless profile was only heightened by the lurking shadows of the night as the stars scattered across the night sky.

Bulma walked right past him, looking cool and confident as she strode right in. She took one look around, spotted a hole in the upper right side and a few wires poking out of the main council. Very slowly and deliberately, she glided over to the tool box she had installed days ago, in light of the constant repairs, and retrieved a screwdriver.

And, while he stood watching her in the doorway, arms crossed, she began to pound the tool into the council with so much strength and intensity, she was amazed herself. When she finished, the screwdriver was wedged in deep, sparks were flying out of it and it was not fixed at all. Quite the opposite; it was worst then before.

His eyes widened and flashed in fury, his chest puffed out, his fingers balled into tight fists and his jaw clenched so hard Bulma saw his muscles bunch in the sides. He looked as pissed as one man could be. Probably beyond it. Bulma half expected him to pounce on her and crack her neck.

Ironically, he was considering it.

Although his seemingly lack of control caught her off guard, she smiled in spite of herself, pleased (_overjoyed)_, by his reaction and then walked out pass him. Pass the electrifying aura of anger that pulsated from his corded body. She never thought she could feel _that_ good about making a person angry before. And the best thing was that she didn't need to utter a word. Her sheer act of disobedience was enough to show the man she was a force to be reckoned with.

She didn't fail to hear him as she skirted pass however when he hissed threateningly, "You'll pay for that, woman. I'm the wrong man to play with. I can be your worst nightmare."

And Bulma didn't doubt it. Not that she was exceptionally afraid of him. Sure, he was probably evil and insane but he hadn't harmed her in any physical way. And although the last threat had seemed to say otherwise, she still felt he wouldn't. If he had wanted to, it'd be done. Simple as that.

Yet the look he had in his eyes, the look of pure animal instinct, had indeed set her back. It was so..._raw_, so intense. It had her thinking that his control, _or even his sanity_, could come crumbling down any second and he'd explode in emotions. An event better left unseen, in her opinion.

So, as Bulma rolled into her bed and closed her eyes, she sighed. Sleep wasn't as appealing to her as before. Probably because the indistinct screams of an angry male blowing up what could only be left of the GR machine echoed in her ears.

Yes, her _worst _nightmare had now taken form. Into the likes of Prince Vegeta.


	2. Fascination

I'm quick, eh?

Here's the next chapter.

I own nothing, of course.

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**_Chapter One._**

* * *

Rash. He had been rash. He was _being_ rash.

Vegeta glowered at the crumpled, beaten, _broken _Gravity Room with a look of disgust. His arms were folded neatly across his chest and his legs were spread apart in his usual stance of contempt. And while he stared at the machine that could no longer provide any use to him, he wondered who he was angrier with; Himself or_ Her_.

And when he said _her_, he meant the blue haired wench of a genius who was responsible for this.

Or who was partially responsible. After all, if she had fixed the damn thing last night then _this_ wouldn't have happened.

Yet, he thought in disdain, it was_ he_ who had continued to train in it, knowing full well that it needed to be repaired. No matter how angry the woman's action from last night had made him, he should have retreated and waited for her to fix it today. But of course, he had lost control. If only for a split second. He just couldn't fathom the idea that he had been defied. And by some weakling, female, earthling!

His scowl deepened. His eyes narrowed and he growled deep in his throat. He needed a new place to train, he thought finally.

With that, the spiky haired male turned on his heel and stalked back into the large compound.

-----------

Bulma slouched into the kitchen tiredly, a yawn escaping from her mouth as she opened the refrigerator and contemplated whether to drink Orange juice or have a shot of vodka.

_Oh Bulma, it's too early to drink! _Her mother would have scolded. _Ten thirty sweetie? Really?_

Yes, really, she angrily thought, she had been up most of the night due to a certain stocky flamed haired Saiyan. If he hadn't completely destroyed the GR last night, she guessed it was on its last leg. What exactly had he expected to get from that? Satisfaction at her not getting sleep? Or the knowledge that she'd have to either rebuild another one or fix what remained of the present one?

Well tough nails to him, she thought while grabbing a cup from the cabinet, I'm not going to fix or rebuild anything until I feel in tip top shape.

Bulma began to prepare coffee and sat down at the table. At least he was quiet now, the blue haired woman smiled lightly, he probably finally got some rest.

What happened next confirmed that her prediction was wrong.

Vegeta stormed into the kitchen and although he looked to be stomping, his footsteps were almost silent. Cat-like abilities, Bulma thought absently. He came to a halt across from her, the table separating them from reach and stood there for a beat, glaring down at her with flashing eyes.

He apparently held grudges.

"Would you like some coffee, Vegeta?" Bulma asked quite cheerily with a slight smile. As much as she wanted to ignore the bastard _(or at least, tell him off)_ she decided to simply let the past go. Maybe the look in his rage filled eyes had persuaded her to come to that conclusion but she wanted to think it was the smell of coffee brewing that had instantly put her at ease.

_'The world's liquid therapy.'_ she had once heard someone call it. Nevertheless, it always put a calm over her.

Evidently however, it didn't posses enough skill to put the same tranquility over the Prince. His eyebrow rose questionably, as if the offer was ridiculous and obscene. "What I would _like, _woman is a place to continue my training."

Of course. She rolled her eyes. "I'll get right on it, _your majesty_. Right after I get my coffee." She stood up and retrieved the finished cup, pouring it into a glass. "You sure you don't want any?"

Vegeta, who was obviously taken aback by her carefree attitude, squinted at her suspiciously. Why just last night she made him look like a complete fool and now she was offering him...substances? Unusual. He stood straight and uttered a curt, "No, I don't want any."

"Suit yourself." Bulma shrugged and sat back down, relishing in the taste of the scalding coffee as she gulped it down. As she continued to drink it, aware that her energy was returning, she looked up and was surprised to see that he hadn't moved from his previous location; the same frown on his face, same apprehensive stance, and same piercing eyes. He was waiting until she was done. She blinked up at him, an uneasy smile on her lips. "You should really relax, you know."

Her words made his eyebrows furrow. "What makes you think I'm _not_ relaxed?" He spat out.

"You're tense." She said simply, putting her empty cup down. "I can tell by the way your standing. You're always so...tense."

His eyes narrowed. "Are you finished?" It took her a moment to realize he was talking about her cup. "I believe you said you'd fix that wretched machine after you're done drinking that..._concoction_."

Concoction? Bulma blinked again and for the first time, it occurred to her that the reason for his rigid attitude had to do with_ her_. The way he sneered at the end of sentence made Bulma think that he suspected some sort of foul play with her. Like poison, or possibly, drugs. It was a weird thought to pop into her head but all the same, it made her want to question him about it. "You don't trust me." It came out more of a statement than a question.

Vegeta watched her stare at him with curiosity and was silent. "What exactly have you done to deserve my trust?"

"Well, what have I done to receive none of it?" She countered, suddenly feeling hurt. "I've taken you in, given you a bed to sleep in, facilities to use, food to eat and what you give me in return is a selfish attitude and wariness?"

There was a slight change of posture in the man as if he were about to jump forward. "Fair enough." He finally said harshly. "Until you give me _reason_ to, I shall not _dis_trust you. But, for the record, I'd like to say that I haven't asked for your help and I don't need it. You gave on your own accord but do not expect me to behave the same. You don't want to feel distrusted? Fine. But as far as I know, you're a weakling earthling _with_ intellectual abilities that far surpass many of the other _wealking_ earthlings I've seen here." He snorted. "Your physical attributes are lacking without a doubt but you're _smart_ and because of that, I don't feel inclined to drop my guard around you."

Bulma was unsure of what to be; Happy that he_ thought_ of her as smart enough to actually pose a threat to him or angry and sad that he didn't intend to let down whatever barricade he had built.

"I won't hurt you if that's-"

His chuckles made her stop short. His frown turned into a smirk. "_Hurt_ me? Woman, I have no doubt that you won't hurt me. Not because you say so but because you _can't_."

Confusion masked her face and she asked, more angrily then she intended at first, "Well then what the hell is it? Why are you so damn uptight?"

"Experience has taught me to leave no opening for betrayal."

The sentence both baffled and startled Bulma. It came to her mind that this was _the first _conversation she was having with him, since his arrival weeks ago, that contained a topic disregarding the GR. It was....odd to see him in this light. And although she guessed that he hadn't meant to appear as such, Bulma witnessed him not as an arrogant, stuck up alien but a man who was either hiding something or who was trying to bury something from his past. Maybe even both. Maybe more. There was no doubt in her mind that a bigger and more in depth story revolved around Vegeta. One that now had her intrigued enough to figure out exactly what it was.

As she opened her mouth to say something about it however, he cut in viciously.

"I've listened to you squabble for long enough." She didn't bring it to his attention that he had spoken most of the time. She simply watched him turn on his heel and command over his shoulder. "Fix the contraption. Now." Then he walked out.

------------

"IT'S BULMA!"

The loud exclamation from her long time friend nearly made the blue haired woman burst out in laughter. Along with the goofy grin on his face, Goku was in a good mood. But then again, when _wasn't_ he?

"How ya been? Me and Chichi have been meaning-"

"Bulma!?" The spiky haired man was thrown to the side as his onyx eyed wife stumbled to gain entrance to the door. "Bulma!" She squealed enthusiastically, taking her into her arms for a big bear hug. "Oh it's so nice to see you!"

Bulma smiled at her friends' happy-go-lucky attitudes and let them usher her into their home. It made her realize at times how similar their moods were and how well they seemed to get along (most of the time anyway). Whenever _they_ fought, she was quite sure they made up shortly afterwards.

Chichi sat beside her on their small couch and Goku was left standing, hands on hips with a smile on his face for no reason at all. "So what's the scoop? How have you been?"

"Fine." Bulma smiled tightly, feeling a bit subconscious under their gaze. "Well...uh...Yamcha and I broke up." It was a confession she had wanted to keep secret for a little bit but, suddenly, it had came out. Like their perfect relationship had demanded she spit it out so they could scrutinize it. She hadn't even told her own _parents_ about it yet. And now that she had stated it aloud, she realized it hurt much more then she wanted it to.

The reaction she got from them though was completely different then what she expected.

"That's great!" He exclaimed.

While she said simultaneously, "Oh Bulma, I'm so sorry."

Both women turned to give the tall, goofy man an incredulous look. Chichi's look was angrier. You could almost see her saying; "HOW CAN YOU BE SO INSENSITIVE, GOKU?"

And his response would have been, "But Chichi, you _wanted_ them to break up too! You said Yamcha was a dirty, low-"

Then Chichi would have covered his mouth, hit him with a frying pan and the man would have kept his lips zipped.

Instead, the dark haired woman laughed nervously and patted Bulma on the shoulder, completely ignoring her husband. "There's always other fish in the sea, you know." Perfect, comforting friend. That was Chichi. Then, she stood up and said happily, "Speaking of fish, I'll go cook us some food."

Bulma watched her disappear into the kitchen in amusement. She wondered vaguely if that was how she cheered up Goku._ Oh don't worry Goku sweetie, you'll get that bad guy next time! Do you want chicken or steak? _But of course, there would be no need to do that because Goku _always_ got the bad guy.

"Uh...sorry for that." He laughed nervously and Bulma tried to shoot him a reassuring smile but it turned into a grimace."You okay?"

The blue eyed woman looked up to see her friend giving her a much more sympathetic look then she cared to receive. "Yeah, I'm okay." _No, she wasn't._

"It'll be alright." Goku smiled. How did you know, she wanted to ask bitterly, How could you possibly know that it'll be okay? "Trust me." It was like he was reading her mind. It occurred to her then that he hadn't said anything that implied her and Yamcha would get back together like every other time. Strange, considering his positive attitude about everything and anything. Giving the man a curious look, Bulma narrowed her eyes and Goku smiled nervously.

Just then Chichi waltz back in, announcing that the fish was cooking and it shouldn't be too long. Goku gave her a look of appreciation, for either interfering on the awkward situation or making food, and Bulma saw the loving look of exchange between them. Instantly, she felt jealous and wronged. They had each other and she had no one. How fucked was that?

About as fucked as her feeling bitter towards her best friends. Damn that Yamcha.

"How's Vegeta?" The question caught her off guard so much she nearly fell off the couch. And of course, the strange inquiry had come from Goku.

"Good? He's an egotistical, annoying, arrogant, spoiled little brat of a man who thinks he rules over everything and that every one in the compound should do as he says exactly when he says it." She griped with a roll of her eyes. "Why just before I came here, I had to spend three and a half hours fixing the GR machine because PRINCE, yes he _never_ lets me forgets he's a PRINCE, Vegeta nearly destroyed it last night due to a temper tantrum. And I try, I really do try to be hospitable and kind to the bastard but he takes all my polite consideration and throws it back into my face." After her rant, she breathed out and said with a feign fondness. "Yes, so the little twerp is just _great_!"

Chichi and Goku blinked, exchanging surprised looks.

"So," Goku whistled. "I take it you two aren't getting along?"

The women sweat dropped.

---------

Yamcha tried to shake off all his nervousness and marched across the lawn to the back of the Capsule Corporation Compound. He had flowers in his left hand and his other hand was clenched into a fist, the palm seating profusely.

Get it together; he told himself with a deep breath, she's not going to want you back if you're acting like a wuss.

And he believed that to be true. Furthermore, he believed that Bulma would indeed take him back. After all, it wasn't as if their fight had been _that _bad. He was sure that they could get past this as they had done so many times before.

So, with newfound determination, Yamcha strolled on, chest puffed out, a smile on his tanned face. Yes, everything would be okay.

Thirty seconds later, Yamcha found himself face down in the grass, stinging throbs pulsating through his jaw, flowers forced from his grip from the fall. He blinked, while white flashes of pain stroke before his eyes and slowly sat up, groaning loudly.

As he glanced about to determine what had crashed into his jaw, he heard laughter. Low at first and then louder, booming and deep. Definitely a male.

His eyes landed on the short frame of none other then Vegeta, a smirk on his face, arms crossed, feet apart. Yamcha moved around his jaw carefully and heard it crack. Anger began to simmer from the injured man as he considered that the widow peaked male was somehow responsible for this.

Then, Yamcha spotted the medium sized piece of metal laying a little ways from him and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"You should really watch where you're going." Came Vegeta's taunting voice.

Yamcha shot him a death glare that didn't seem to phase his amusement. "What the hell happened?" He grumbled out, more to himself.

Vegeta chose to reply any way. "I seem to have blasted a hole in this ridiculous piece of machinery yet again. That useless woman needs to reinforce stronger steel."

Although he was speaking more to himself as well, Yamcha knew that the man was explaining that, indirectly, he had knocked him out. And he found it amusing, no doubt.

"Yeah well, you should watch where you blow things." Yamcha found himself complaining as he slowly got to his feet. He could already feel a bump forming where the object had struck at. Shit, that'd leave a bruise.

Vegeta's smile faded slowly. "If you weren't such a _puny_ man then maybe it wouldn't have dealt so much damage."

The scar faced man turned to glare at the shorter male and was only mildly surprised to find that he was already glaring back at him. Tension filled the air, crackling in the air that separated the two males.

Vegeta cocked his head to the side, a smirk returning back to his features, obviously amused that the other man looked to be considering fighting him. Well fine, it wasn't as if he could train in the GR yet. Besides, he was itching to beat the living daylights out of something that_ breathed_.

Yamcha knew full well he wouldn't _win_ if he fought Vegeta but at the moment, he wanted to fight him anyway. Suicide mission? The hell with it, he could care less right now. The short little troll's arrogance was taking him to his breaking point. He wanted to put him in his place which, to Yamcha, was somewhere far, far,_ far_ away from here.

Vegeta raised one eyebrow and Yamcha knew it was an invitation; _Make the first move._

Yamcha lowered and Vegeta tensed for a split second, thinking he was getting into a fighting stance but then he saw that the man was just stooping to pick up the flowers that had been knocked from his hand.

Vegeta snorted and muttered something about weakling humans. He then sat down on the ground, crossed his arms, leaned back on the GR and closed his eyes.

Yamcha blinked at that. What was he doing? Waiting? And if so, for whom? Then, because his bravado had dwindled down, Yamcha called out, almost nervously, "Hey Vegeta, have you saw Bulma?"

"No."

Yamcha glanced at CC. "Do you know if she's inside?"

"No."

"Do you know if she left?"

"_No_." Vegeta spat out angrily, finally opening his eyes to glare at the other man across the lawn. "I've told you I haven't seen her so why do you continue asking me questions, human? Does it look like I know where that woman is? I could care less about her whereabouts. Now get out of my sight and stop bothering me with such trivial matters." His eyes twinkled. "Unless, of course, you'd like to replace my punching bag."

Yamcha gulped and scratched his head nervously. "No thanks." He muttered loud enough for him to hear. "I was just wondering because well...you're always over here.....or whatever." He waved it off and then started to walk away, wondering why he had even tried to enlist the Saiyan in help.

Vegeta's words made him pause, however. "I may not know where the wench is but I can easily guess that you're the last person on the list of people she wants to see." Either he is or I am, he thought absently afterwards.

Yamcha narrowed his eyebrows and turned to stare at him. "What does that mean?" He asked angrily.

"It means she wants nothing to do with you." Vegeta yawned indifferently. His statement was fueled simply from hearing him and Bulma bicker endlessly a few nights ago. Why not make the scrawny man mad by embellishing the truth or, in his case, sprouting out what he assumed was true? He had nothing else to do and this could prove entertaining until _someone_ fixed the fucking GR.

And it was making Yamcha angry, he could see. The man growled. "Wh-She said that!?"

The smaller man smirked. "Word for word."

Then Yamcha's expression turned into one that Vegeta hadn't expected but enjoyed all the more: Sadness. "Why would she tell you that?" He asked, biting his lip, talking to himself. "Why would she tell _you_, of all people?"

Although he hadn't liked his tone, Vegeta couldn't help chuckling. Dumb humans and their emotions. It felt good to manipulate them and make them do as he wished. "I think she's grown quite fond of me." He nearly burst out in more laughter from his own statement.

"Bullshit."

Both men turned to see a rather angry looking Bulma standing a few feet from them, hands on hips, face in a scowl. Leave it to her to ruin the fun, Vegeta thought dryly.

She walked over to Yamcha and shot the male laying in the grass a disapproving look. "Grown fond of _you_? Hah, dream on squirt."

"I must have received mixed messages." Vegeta said mockingly.

She smiled in spite of herself but still rolled her eyes. Turning to Yamcha, she began to speak, to explain to him that Vegeta was an 'arrogant asshole' and never to listen to him and then to ask him why in the hell he was here but her mouth froze and terror came onto her face.

And Vegeta couldn't help but burst into laughter, his deep voice booming in the clear day air as she screamed,

"Oh my god Yamcha, what happened to your face!?"

* * *

Hope you enjoyed the second installement. More will be coming soon.


	3. Guilty of Defense

Wow. I'm really updating fast, huh? ^_^

Enjoy.

* * *

**_Chapter Two_**

* * *

"Ow...OW! Not so hard."

Bulma smiled reassuringly but sure enough, she pressed the cloth onto Yamcha's face much harder then need be and he winced and whimpered.

"Bu-OW!" He jumped away from her and sent her an accusative look. "What's on that?"

She cocked her head to the side in an attempt to feign innocent. "Just alcohol. It'll heal the cut. But I suggest ice to make the swelling go down. I'll go get it." She smiled again and stood up to retrieve the item from the fridge.

Yamcha pouted, cringing from the stinging on his head. Although he thought about bolting, he sat silently on the living room couch until the blue haired mogul returned with a large ice pack.

"I can- AH!" He screamed out in pain when she pushed the pack on his face with excessive force. "Jeez Bulma! I can do it!" He told her, yanking it from her grip and applying it on more softly. He narrowed his eyes at the woman but only got a slight shrug of her shoulders for an apology. Obviously she wasn't quite over the break up yet, he thought dryly.

Bulma smirked inwardly. Served him right, she thought victoriously, now he knew just how much I'm hurting.

But no matter how much she enjoyed causing him pain in some sort of juvenile revenge, she hadn't liked figuring out that Vegeta had somehow been the reason why the bump had formed on Yamcha's face in the first place. And all the cocky Saiyan Prince did in his own defense was smirk graciously. No guilt forming in his black hole of a heart.

The man in question was leaning on the back wall of the living room, arms crossed of course with a blank expression. She turned to give him a look but he showed no inkling that he even noticed them.

"Is it going down?"

Bulma turned to look at Yamcha with his lip out in a pout, pointing at his forehead. It was black and purple and a jagged cut was running through it. To be honest, she actually thought it was getting_ bigger_. "Uh...It'll go down." She laughed nervously and then turned to glance at Vegeta again with a frown.

This time he was staring right at her, a knowing smirk on his lips. Apparently, he was fond of physical abuse. She narrowed her eyes but his smirk only grew.

"I hope it doesn't leave a permanent scar." Yamcha was muttering, shaking his head. Both of them broke eye contact to glance at him. "If it does, _someone_ is going to pay." He gave the shorter male a nice glare after that sentence. They all knew what he was implying.

Bulma raised an eyebrow as she watched the two males stare at each other, neither blinking. She sensed the tension increase as each second passed and wondered why it felt like there was some sort of rivalry brewing between them. Don't get her wrong, she never considered them to be friends (_never_ that) but she hadn't picked up on any type of challenge. Vegeta was rude to everyone so it was normal for Yamcha to dislike him but...

The atmosphere in the room now was different. Bulma had only seen Vegeta react like this to one other person:

Goku.

"It's looks much better now." Bulma finally spoke up, breaking the moment. Both of the men looked away to stare at her and she smiled.

"Really?" Yamcha asked uncertainly as he touched it gently.

"Yep." She nodded. "You look like a...movie star."

Vegeta snorted.

Yamcha shot him another glare and Bulma sighed. "Do you need something, Vegeta?"

"Has your tiny brain forgotten already?" He sneered. "The contraption has a hole in it. Again."

No, she hadn't forgotten. "Why don't you ask my father to fix it? He should be in his lab."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow and stared at her for a beat before simply walking out.

"Jeez," Yamcha started as soon as the Saiyan was out of ear shot. "I can't _stand_ that guy. I just don't see how you put up with him and his attitude."

"He's not that bad." She shrugged it off. "Besides, I think the feeling is mutual. He didn't seem very warm to you."

"Is he warm to anyone?" He scowled.

"He's nice to my dad.....sorta. It's more like he respects my father."

"But he doesn't respect_ you_."

Bulma narrowed her eyebrows and for some strange reason, she felt...angry. She felt the need to defend Vegeta. To defend their relationship. _What relationship!? He does disrespect me!_ _So why do I wanna defend him!?_ She thought in confusion. _After all, I had just whined and moaned about him to Goku and Chichi. Why do I feel defensive when someone else does it?_

Because she felt that only _she_ could do it?

Because it was _Yamcha_ and anything out of his mouth right now would make her angry?

Because deep down she really _believed _Vegeta was an okay guy?

Hopefully it was just number two and she was exaggerating. Nevertheless, Bulma stood up from her seat and glowered down at Yamcha. "Why are you here anyway? Is there something _you_ wanted? Because I'm afraid that if you only came to badmouth Vegeta then you can just leave right now."

Yamcha blinked up at her with an open mouth, totally baffled. Finally, he stuttered, "I-I-Are you defending him!?"

She bit her lip but stood her ground. "What do you want, Yamcha? I'm busy."

He shook his head as if to clear it and then muttered, "Well...I came to apologize. You know, for...a couple days ago." He snatched the bouquet of flowers from behind him on the couch and held them up. A couple were bent, two had lost their leaves and some were missing but he still grinned sheepishly and offered them to her.

Since she couldn't bear to decline them, Bulma took them and smiled appreciatively. Sitting them in a vase, she made a mental note to get rid of them later. "Is that all?"

"Uh..."He scratched his head."Welll...am I forgiven?" He made puppy dog eyes that only seemed to work for him and she groaned inwardly. "Can we try again?"

No, she thought, tell him no. Tell him that we break up way too much and that it wasn't going to work out. Tell him it's time to finally move on.

But his big eyes were staring at her, pleading her to take him back. The swollen bump was making her feel guilty, as if it was saying, "If YOU hadn't taken Vegeta in then YAMCHA wouldn't have gotten hit." And then he smiled; one of his dreamy, you-can't-resist-me smiles and Bulma found herself saying with a grin of her own,

"Yeah. We can try again."

* * *

"There ya go, my boy." Dr. Briefs said happily as he exited the Gravity Room. He turned to the widow peaked male who had waited impatiently for the hole to be fixed. Luckily, it had only taken a little over half an hour. "But I suggest you try to take it slower, Vegeta. Yo-"

"I didn't ask for your suggestions, old man." The Prince spat out before sidestepping him, walking in and closing the door afterwards. He had just about enough of the man's concerned _'thoughts'_. He didn't understand the significance of his hard training. If he didn't reach Super Saiyan then he'd be a failure. He'd be the odd ball out. He'd be a weakling.

_Kakarot reached it. Even the future boy reached it. _

And, he'd be damned if he didn't either.

So, with his determination fueled by the males who had somehow managed to surpass him, he set the gravity on 500x's and began his rigorous training once more.

* * *

Bulma hummed happily to herself as she spun around before her full length mirror. She was decked out in an elegant, strapless, ivory colored dress that barely reached the floor. After one more twirl, she nodded her head and confirmed that this would be the dress she'd wear on her date with Yamcha later on.

_BOOM._

She slowly began to take it off, careful not to rip it and laid it on her bed. With one last look at it and a contented smile, she turned and began getting dressed in her previous attire. After she was done, she stared at herself in the mirror and wondered if she should do something different with her hair. It was still-

_THUMP._

-in the same afro style she had had in when Goku first arrived back. Maybe she'd cut it? Or maybe just-

_BANG._

-flat iron it out. It was long enough to hang past her shoulder blades. That'd look cute right? She bit her lip, and then glanced down at her fingernails, wondering if she should do something to them as well. A nice-

_SLAM._

A nice-

_BAM._

A nice-

_CRASH!_

"Damn it!" She exclaimed angrily, marching out of her room and downstairs. As she headed out the back door, her mother appeared. All smiles and giggles like always.

"Where are you off too, sweetie?" The blond asked cheerily.

"To give that Vegeta a piece of my mind." She muttered, opening the door. "I can barely hear myself think! And if I don't look gorgeous on this date with Yamcha then I'll personally _MURDER_ that bigheaded midget." That said, Bulma stormed out.

"Have fun, dear." Was all her mother called before walking away, shaking her blond curls as she muttered about kids in love.

Bulma stomped outside, across the lawn and over to the GR while the sounds of wreckage only intensified, booming loudly. She wondered vaguely if any of her neighbors heard it.

Psh, of course. He was making so much noise that people on Mars could hear him. The whole city was probably up due to his racket. Good thing that this was Capsule Corporation. Everyone probably suspected they were just making some big, new invention for the world to use.

She came to a stop outside of the large circular device, hit a bottom on the front of it and out flipped a perfect square tile. If you looked closer you would see that it was the Gravity Room's circuit breaker.

Grabbing the switch, she smiled before turning it down and watching the lights inside instantly flash off.

There was only a short minute of silence before the door was opened and out burst Vegeta, eyebrows narrowed dangerously, hands in fist. He stopped short when he saw her and growled. He opened his mouth to say something, spotted the open electrical unit and then glared at her, eyes flashing. The whole thing seemed like déjà vu to her. How many times had he given her that death glare?

She held up her hand from a sure onslaught of curses from him. "Before you say anything, I'll let you know that I only turned it off because you were making an unreasonable amount of noise. I couldn't even concentrate on getting ready for a date. I'll turn it back on but you have to promise to keep it down."

Vegeta looked at her as if she had grown another head. "Oh, is that right?" He finally sneered heatedly. "Well, I'm so sorry. I hadn't realized I was making such a commotion. I _promise_ not to do it again."

Bulma blinked at his compliance and then smiled warmly. "You see, Vegeta? We can totally get along-"

Suddenly, she saw the ground rush up to meet her. But before she hit head first, something grabbed her ankle and abruptly stopped her fall. She then found herself staring into the dark, angry eyes of Vegeta.

"Wha-!" She blinked rapidly to clear it and then looked up and gasped. Turns out that Vegeta had her by her ankle.

And she was hanging upside down.

This would explain why an ache was beginning to form in her head.

"Now get this straight _woman_," Vegeta growled. "I have never nor will I_ ever_ even _attempt _to '_get along'_ with you. And to be perfectly honest, it won't eat me up inside at night if we _never_ get along."

She wiggled in his grip and scowled. "Let me go you pompous ASS!"

"I will let you go. But I swear if you interrupt my training again, you will wish you'd never met me." Then he let her go.

She tumbled onto her back and yelped as pain shot up her spine. Groaning, she rubbed her back and screamed, "Too late for that!"

He simply 'hmphed' and then reached out to flick the switch back up. But before he could, he felt a hand wrap around his wrist. He turned to raise an eyebrow at the blue haired woman who had managed to get up quick enough and grab him.

It wasn't as if she was strong enough to stop him but the fact that she was touching him that threw Vegeta all off. Her hand was soft and dainty and for a split second, his mind flashed with the thought of how her hands would feel on different parts of his body.

Then the thought was gone and his uneasiness turned back into anger. How dare she touch him!

But before he could speak, she did, "How dare you touch me!" Exactly what he had been thinking. She was glaring daggers at him. "If you had any decency then you'd know it's rude to hit a woman."

"I never hit you-"

"Yeah but I bet you wanted to. Honestly Vegeta, I thought you were improving. I even defended you to Yamcha, for goodness sake." She was shaking her head, as if the idea was ridiculous now.

To cover up his surprise and a tinge of some other emotion foreign to him, Vegeta narrowed his eyes and growled, "I never asked you to-"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." She took her hand off of his wrist. "You're a loner. A _'bad boy'_ who doesn't need any one. How much longer do you think you'll live under those standards?"

Something flickered in his gaze; Confusion, fear, fury, pain. She wasn't sure what. "I've lived like this all my life." He said quietly, voice drenched in intensity. "And I intend to continue like this."

Then she smiled, a little, sad smile that made him feel pitied. "Well, I really hope you don't. Because I don't think you'll get anywhere in life like that. And you won't _achieve_ anything either."

He heard the implied tone of her voice. He saw what she meant. And instantly, he felt rage engulf him. _She has no fucking idea what I can do_, he thought,_ maybe she'll see after I snap her neck!_

But before he could even make a move, she did. At first he blinked and furrowed his eyebrows as he watched her pull her hand back. Then he smirked, knowing full well that she wouldn't do what it looked like she was going to do.

_SMACK._

Vegeta's head snapped to the right from the force of her smack and he stood still, his face in complete confusion and disbelief, the imprint of her hand on his cheek, while she stood hands on hips.

"That's for dropping me."

And that was the last thing he heard before she walked away.

* * *

Eight O'clock.

Only an hour until her date with Yamcha.

"Shouldn't you be getting dressed, dear?"

It was her mother. Always the nosy one. Always the anxious one. Bulma looked up from her spot at the kitchen table to smile nervously. She would have been getting dressed if there hadn't been a large stain on the ivory dress she had picked out. Now she would have to wait until it was washed. How Bulma had managed to overlook it until now was beyond her. Her unawareness probably was because of Vegeta.

After the incident between them, he had actually been considerably quieter. No more loud booms, no more unnecessary noise. So, all turned out good right?

Wrong.

Why was she feeling so...bad? So guilty? She was sure that if she had to, she'd slap him again.

No, no, it wasn't about the slap; she realized suddenly, it was about the look on his face after she had told him he'd never achieve anything. They had both knew what she had meant. That he'd never reach Super Saiyan.

Looking back on it, Bulma _did_ feel bad about her word choice. She shouldn't have said something like that knowing how touchy the man was about the subject. And the look on his face after she'd struck him had only managed to make her feel worse. Like someone had taken his pride.

Sighing, Bulma stood and walked out of the kitchen. Her mother, with her short memory asked again in concern, "Sweetie, why aren't you getting ready?"

Ignoring her mom, the blue haired woman once again stepped outside into the backyard and the crisp cool night air hit her quickly. She sighed in content and glanced up at the bright stars in the sky. Such a pretty sight.

Then, she squared her shoulders, glanced straight ahead and took a deep breath. It was going to take quite a lot of courage, energy and dignity to apologize to Prince Vegeta.

But before she could take another step closer to the Gravity Machine, it exploded.

* * *


	4. Disaster Dreams

And I just keep coming.

Hope you enjoy this chapter as well ^_^ By the way, thanks for all your reviews. It really makes my day.

And, as a little note for this chapter, I'm changing the explosion scene up a bit for the sake of my story so please, don't tell me that's not how it happened because, quite frankly, I _know_.

Onward to;;

* * *

**_Chapter Three_**

* * *

_Ringing._

She opened her eyes and breathed out a gasp of breath simultaneously. Groaning out loud, she glanced around frantically, desperately trying to figure out what was going on and found that she was lying in the grass.

_Ringing. In her ears._

She pushed herself to a sitting position, blinking her eyes rapidly to clear the blurry scenery around her and coughed.

The ringing in her ears. It was so loud. She groaned against it while it drowned out all other sound. Pulsating painfully through her skull.

"BULMA!"

A scream, muffled and jumbled to her making it impossible to determine who it belonged to. Bulma stared forward, eyes wide yet her sight wasn't clear enough for her to make out anything. Everything looked splotchy and fuzzy. And the ringing in her ears was giving her a headache.

"BULMA!"

She couldn't see, could barely hear, and couldn't move anymore. Oh god, was she dying?

"BULMA!"

That had been her father.

All at once, awareness came back to her so fast it was almost painful. There was blood running down her chin, dripping onto her shirt. Her back ached, her head ached. Her vision cleared and she was left staring at the rubble a few feet away, flames engulfing it, roaring loudly enough to make the ringing disappear completely. Her eyes widened and her heart froze.

"Bulma dear, are you okay?!" Her father was at her side now, worry lines in his forehead. Her mother was right behind him along with Yamcha who, she guessed, had just arrived.

But she didn't dwell on his presence long. Turning to them, she screamed in a voice that sounded ragged and terrified, "Vegeta's in there! We have to help him!" Then, stumbling onto her feet, she staggered forward.

"Bulma wait!" Yamcha called, quickly following her. But she didn't stop. Actually, to him, she seemed to be moving faster. Urgency, worry and fear all combined into one surge of strength that was propelling her with so much speed Yamcha didn't think he'd be able to keep her from running right into the wreckage.

And she did.

"Bulma!" Yamcha's face contorted in fear_. Was she crazy!? The thing is on fire!_

Bulma paid no mind to the crackling flames as they leaped and danced with the night air. All she could think about was a certain Saiyan Prince. And all she wanted was for him to be okay. "Vegeta!?" She called, trying to ignore the pain shooting through her body from the fire. "Vegeta, are you okay!?"

She glanced every which way but only saw more and more flames that seemed to be increasing with every passing second. By bounding so blindly into the debris, she had fatally forgotten about one thing; smoke. It began to enter her lungs and she coughed savagely but even losing breath didn't stop her as she called out for him in a constricted voice.

It was only when she saw her vision start to blur when fear for _herself_ finally crept into her bones. She looked down at her arms, saw the blackened skin and fainted instantly.

One pair of arms caught her before she hit the ground. Tucking her neatly in his arms, Vegeta, using his body as a shield against the flames, put his head down and charged out.

Yamcha and Bulma's parents were there to meet him.

"Oh thank god!" Yamcha breathed out in relief as soon as he saw them emerge. He had a hand over his forehead and his eyes were red. Mr. and Mrs. Briefs raced over to Vegeta as he swayed far enough away from the wreck and, with surprising gentleness, sat the blue haired woman on the ground.

Then, with a glare towards Mr. and Mrs. Briefs, he said, in an agitated tone, "Your daughter is ridiculously foolish."

That said, the widow peaked Saiyan fell out.

* * *

Thirteen candles flicked on top of the triple, deluxe, chocolate cake sitting on the table before the short, skinny, teenage blue haired girl who had on braces and quite a few pimples gracing her skin.

"Blow out the candles and make a wish, honey!" Ordered her giddy, blond haired mother from beside her. Her dad, who was on her other side, nodded in agreement.

Grinning without showing her braces (a smile she had perfected), she closed her eyes, took in a deep breath and let it all out in one gush of air, totally annihilating those candles to kingdom come. Satisfied, she sat back and waited for her wish to come true.

"What'd you wish for, dear?" Asked her 'four eyed' father, a warm smile on his face.

But she simply shook her head, refusing to say aloud. Because she knew that if she revealed it, it wouldn't come true. So, she kept repeating it over and over again on all of her birthdays. One day, she promised herself, it'd come true. One day. She just had to be patient.

What did she keep wishing for, you ask? Well that's easy.

_I wish for my own prince charming._

_-----------------_

The first thing Bulma was aware of when she regained consciousness was extremely bright lights. Squinting against the pain, she groaned and shifted uncomfortably in the bed.

Bed? Why was she in bed? What had happened? Didn't she have a date with-

"Bulma?"

The blue haired woman turned her gaze on her scar faced boyfriend and, after spotting the fear etched into his brow, she deduced that something wasn't right. She tried to move her arm but that proved to be a mistake as pain shot up it. Baring her teeth against it, she let it drop back into place.

"Are you okay? Bulma?"

Why wouldn't she be okay? And where was that pain coming from? She glanced about; glad that it didn't hurt to move her neck at least and noticed the white tiled room, medical items around, wires hooked onto...her? She furrowed her eyebrows and slowly glanced down at herself only to see bandages covering quite a large portion of her.

Recognition finally took hold and images flashed through her brain with severe clarity; Vegeta, flames, ringing, her running, Yamcha calling her name, losing breath....._Vegeta_. "What...what happened?" She asked, her voice sounding especially ragged.

Yamcha furrowed his eyebrows in both confusion and concern. "You don't remember?"

She just stared at him. No, she knew what happened, she just didn't know the exacts.

He twisted his lip into a grimace. "The GR caught fire and you...you ran into it to save Vegeta."

"Where is he?"

There was no missing the look of disgust on Yamcha's face as he said, "He's in the other room. Your dad's checking up on him."

She licked her lips. "Is...Is he alright?"

He glanced away for a split second and then said, "Not...so much. You fared much better than him. He's been unconscious for a while now and his body's pretty beaten."

Something inside of Bulma started to break and she felt her heart race. "But...he's going to be alright, isn't he? Isn't he?" She turned to look at him.

Yamcha didn't respond at first. "Why do you care?"

The question startled her so much; she flinched back as if he had struck her. "Wha-What?"

"He's a stuck up, arrogant, murderer for crying out loud Bulma, why do you care if he lives or dies?"

She narrowed her eyes and sat speechless. Was he really saying this!? She searched his expression for a hint of sympathy, a hint of worry, a hint of some_thing _but saw nothing but rock hard malice. He really meant it.

The thought sent her into an angry frenzy and she scowled. "I _care _because he's a _person_, Yamcha! I _care_ because he breathes just as we do and he hurts as well. I care because, no matter what, I don't believe that someone should have to die and suffer! I care-"

"Oh cut the honorable act." Yamcha rolled his eyes in agitation. "Do you know how dumb you sound right now? Defending someone who has killed your friends and is probably still planning on killing others? Risking your life for someone who _definitely_ didn't deserve it!"

Oh, how she wished she could lift her hand to punch the living daylights out of him. But instead, Bulma leveled him with a glare before saying, "People make mistakes and people change, _Yamcha_. He's training to help defeat the androids-"

"Only to get rid of another obstacle that'll keep him from taking over the world!"

There was no talking to him, she realized, there was no reasoning with someone who believed whatever he wanted to believe.

"I just hope you're able to see that," Yamcha was still talking as he walked out. "Before you get hurt." Then, he was gone.

Damn.

Bulma felt her eyes burn and she let her head fall back on the pillow. _What am I doing? _She shook her head. _Why am I such a screw up?_

As much as she didn't want to admit it, Yamcha had been right on some points. She couldn't blame him for his animosity towards the Prince. Hell, he had been _indirectly murdered_ by him! And there was no doubt in her mind that the reaction she showed when Vegeta was in distress had shaken and probably hurt Yamcha. He just didn't see what she saw in the widow peaked male.

And what exactly did she see?

Bulma sighed and closed her eyes.

Honestly, she didn't know. But she hoped it was worth all of this.

"Bulma?"

She slowly glanced over to the doorway and saw her father standing in it, looking a worried and uncertain. She smiled reassuringly and that was all the old man needed to walk in and grin warmly down at her bandaged frame.

"How are you feeling?"

_Horrible_, she thought, _I'm ruining my relationship with a great guy on purpose because I'm unexplainably drawn, yes drawn was a better word because I'm sure as hell NOT attracted to Vegeta, and now I'm sitting in bed bruised. _But out loud, she said, "I feel pretty good."

He laid a hand on her forehead. "I'm glad. You really gave your mother and me a scare."

She smiled sadly. _Great, now you're probably going to be the cause of your parents' predated deaths. _"Where is mom?"

Dr. Briefs chuckled lowly. "Keeping Vegeta company." Then, after a pause, he stated with a wary expression, "I saw Yamcha storm out. He looked pretty angry."

"He didn't agree with what I'd done." Was all she said about that subject. "Is Vegeta awake?"

"No, not yet." He must have saw fear flash across his daughter's face because he added in a stutter, "But he should be up and about soon. You know that man. He's never down for too long."

She forced a smile and then said, "Well, what about me? I don't want to be cooped up in this bed all day."

"Oh you won't." Her father helped her as she struggled to sit up. "You've got burns on your arms, your thighs and a few other places. But, surprisingly, none of them are severe. First degree burns. The anesthesia should be taking effect any moment now. After a few hours, you'll be healed completely."

It was starting to take effect, she noted. "Wow," She breathed, flexing her fingers. A moment ago, it had hurt to raise her arm. Now, she was sitting upright with nothing but dull aches momentarily. Luck really was on her side if she had escaped that mess with only a few burns. It almost sounded impossible when she remembered all the flames licking at her skin.

"Yep." Dr. Briefs checked some of her bandages. "You are quite lucky. It could have been much worst if Vegeta hadn't been there."

She squinted her eyes, bracing herself for whatever came next. "What do you mean?"

"He carried you out and protected your body from most of the flames which, in turn, injured him worst."

The statement nearly sent her spiraling onto the floor. How ironic that after _she_ had gone in to save him, _he _had ended up saving _her_ instead. But it was much more then irony. It was...incredible. Vegeta saving her? Well that was just unheard of. Totally beneath him. Not like him at all.

Then guilt and shame hit her. If she hadn't had ran into there then maybe he wouldn't be in the condition he was in now. Maybe he would have made it out of the wreck without so many injuries. Maybe her attempt at trying to help had backfired and made it all the more worst.

She had to see him.

"Where are you going dear?" Her father called, his eyes wide with surprise at the image of how fast Bulma was moving towards the door. You could barely tell that she had just survived a near fatal accident.

"Where is Vegeta?"

Ahhh, Dr. Briefs thought in realization, with a smile. "He's a few doors down." Then he watched his daughter disappear out of the door and sighed. "That girl will be the death of me."

* * *

_Stronger._

The yellow aura engulfed his short frame, cracking with energy, sending jolts of pure sensation through his veins. He breathed it in and let it take him over as power coursed through his bones.

_It's over._

His usual dark hair suddenly flashed into a much brighter yellow and his eyebrows did the same.

_He'd done it._

A smirk appeared lazily on his lips and he finally felt complete.

_He was a Super Saiyan._

He chuckled.

_He was a Super Saiyan!_

Then, as quick as it had came, it vanished. His hair switched back, the aura disappeared, his veins were left empty and he was left standing in a body that looked exactly like the younger version of himself. The eight year old version.

_No..._

Goku appeared before him and his hair was gold. Then the other boy, the boy from the future, the boy who had accomplished what he couldn't at a much younger age, appeared also. And his hair was gold.

_No..._

They smiled down at him and although they looked perfectly friendly, the eight year old saw past their facades. They were mocking him, belittling him, showing him how weak he was compared to them. They thought, _no they knew_, that he'd _accomplish nothing_.

So all eight year old Vegeta could do was watch them as they grinned and teased while he continued to grow younger. Seven years...six years....five years old!

And, while he stared in fright, Goku and the future boy merged into one figure; dark goatee, hair sticking straight up, cape flying out behind him.

_Father..._

The last thing five year old Vegeta heard, before a sudden flash of bright light blinded him, was his dad saying,

_"Maybe when you grow up you'll be a Super Saiyan, son."_

--------------------

In contrast, Vegeta came awake rather violently. His eyes snapped open, his muscles contracted and he sat up like a bullet, ignoring but still very aware of the pain riveting through his body due to the actions. He glanced down at himself; noting the bandages wrapped around almost every inch of him before he swept his eyes around the room.

_Tables...some soft of (medical?) tools...a machine that was beeping...Bulma...more tables_-

His head snapped back and he stared incredulously at the blue haired woman sitting in a seat by his bedside, her frame slouched, her head lolled against the back of the seat, eyes closed, shallow breathing, sound asleep.

Then, he observed the few bindings that were on her as well and couldn't quite come to a conclusion as to what was going on.

All he could remember was his training. He closed his eyes and tried to conjure up something, _anything_, that might have happened afterwards.

_Training. He had been training but nothing..._His head lifted suddenly. _Wait....something went wrong. The machine blew._

All at once, it came back to him; the ceiling collapsing on top of him, the smell of burning and fire, pain shooting through his body, having to carry Bulma out...

His eyes snapped open and he swung his gaze on her again, eyes narrowing and growling low in his throat.

Suddenly, she came awake. Yawning and stretching her limbs, she sighed, rubbed her eyes and turned to make sure-

"Ah!" She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sight of Vegeta's dark eyes glaring at her. But instead, she simply toppled off of the chair. Her cheeks grew hot and she cursed herself while she got to her feet. Smoothing out her wrinkled clothes, she shot the male a shaky smile. "You're finally up...."

He only stared.

Already embarrassed by her earlier deed and feeling very subconscious under his watch, she shifted and said, "Are you okay? My dad said you were hurt pretty bad and that his anesthesia is probably wearing off soon."

"I'm fine." He assured coldly.

Unsure of what to do or say next, Bulma smiled lightly. "Well...uh...okay, I guess I'll go find my dad and have him check on your vit-"

"Unnecessary." Vegeta told her as he swung his leg off of the bed. Her eyes widened and she came forward.

"Wait! Vegeta, you really shouldn't be moving. You're in no condition-"

"Woman, leave me be! I feel perfectly-" He abruptly stopped and groaned in pain, doubling over and holding his stomach.

Bulma's face contorted into worry and she laid a hand on his forearm. "See!? Come on, lay back down." He angrily swatted her hand away. "Where are you going to go anyway, Vegeta!? You've completely destroyed the GR and left it in shambles."

He turned to glower up at her. "Well then _fix_ it. Reinforce more steel while you're at it. The dumb thing is always causing trouble. But I suppose I shouldn't expect anything less considering its' creator."

WHAT? She thought in disbelief and anger. Had he just insulted her mechanic skills and, indirectly, blamed this whole thing on _her? _Because that was what it was sounding like. She put hands on hips and said in a restrained voice, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't call my inventions dumb, Vegeta."

"Fine," He said fiercely. "I'll stick to calling _you_ dumb."

"Excuse me?"

Vegeta scowled at her and, in the most condescending tone he could muster, he spat out, "You're an imprudent idiot for doing what you did. Honestly woman, what were you thinking? Are you a fan of suicide?"

She blinked and, by the look in his rage filled eyes, she saw that this was what he wanted to address from the start; the incident."Wha-I was trying to help you!" She stuttered in disbelief.

He shook his head. "Really? I didn't notice that after I pulled _you_ out and saved _you_."

Bulma opened her mouth to reply but then quickly shut it. She was unbelievably outraged at the man's attitude. He was too arrogant, too prideful. Didn't he see that she had at least tried? That effort should mean more to him then his worthless pride? But, of course, that was never a factor for Vegeta. Everything centered around him and what he wanted. No one's feelings were ever taken into consideration.

Her fear had been right on point too. He _did_ resent her for ruining the situation. He _was_ going to hang this over her head. He _didn't care_ how she felt.

How she _hated_ him. But he hated her own feelings even more and she hated whatever had made her run into that fire.

But, instead of giving him an earful, she said what he wanted to hear in a clipped tone, "Fine. I get it. You saved me, whoppee. I made everything worst. You're the _best, _greatest, all that jazz. I _thank _you for everything you've done oh Prince of Saiyans and I'm _sorry_ for everything_ I've_ done because I'm so useless and worthless." Sarcasm drenched her words.

Unbeknownst to her however was the knowledge that that _hadn't _been what he wanted to hear. But he still said, "I'm glad you've finally realized what I've been trying to tell you this entire time."

"You're a jackass."

"A jackass who saved you."

She glared at his smirk. "You know what, Vegeta? The next time you blow up the GR, I won't do a damn thing to help you."

"Like you'll make much of a difference either way." He rolled his eyes and started to unwrap his bandages.

Her intended comeback was washed away as she watched him. "Hey! What are you doing? You're not fully healed yet."

"I am a Saiyan warrior, I heal quickly." Suddenly, something hard hit his head and pain flared through it. He glanced up with narrowed eyes to figure out what had hit him.

Turns out, it had been Bulma's fist knocking against his forehead. "See? That hurt didn't it?"

"Woman that is the second time you've struck me. I'd advise you not to do it again unless you're curious of what the afterlife looks like."

"You wouldn't hurt me." She said in a pout that both confused and amused Vegeta.

"Are you sure about that?"

Bulma thought back on it and the only incident she could recall was when he had dropped her on the ground. "Well, not seriously anyway."She muttered.

"You're wrong. I've wanted to blow someone to smithereens ever since I arrived on this repulsive planet." He let the remains of the bandages fall on the floor and glanced down at all the cuts adjourning his body. They _were_ healing rather quickly, she thought absently.

"Is that why you blew up the GR?" She scoffed. "And Earth isn't repulsive. It's actually pretty beautiful." He simply raised his eyebrow while she smiled. "I also know you're lying about wanting to hurt me. Because even if you are the most conceited, vein man I know, you still saved me, didn't you?" She smirked at her own expertise of turning his bragging tool into a weapon against him.

He opened his mouth to retort but then closed it angrily when he realized she had him and just gave her a death glare.

Elated at his speechlessness, she winked and actually dared to blow him a kiss before skipping out.

Vegeta watched her go with a mixture of confusion, rage, bafflement and hilarity on his face. "What the hell just happened?" He asked himself, soon after she had left.

But of course, he received no answer.

* * *

I can honestly say that I'm not too proud of this chapter. It took me a long time to figure out where I wanted to go with it. Surely, the next chapter will be much better.

Thanks for reading ^_^


	5. Yamcha VS Vegeta

^_^

Enjoy.

* * *

**_Chapter Four_**

* * *

"What is this _slop_!?"

Bulma turned her angry gaze on the Saiyan Prince who was sitting at the kitchen table, a plate of bacon and eggs before him. Or, at least, what was _supposed_ to be bacon and eggs. She had accidently burned the bacon until they were nothing but skinny strips and the eggs were rather...droopy.

"It's breakfast." She replied back nonchalantly

He picked at it. "Do you really intend to put_ this_," He gestured wildly at it. "Under the category of food?"

She blew out a sigh. After the incident with the GR a week ago, she had, reluctantly, volunteered to keep Vegeta company while her father fixed it. And by 'keep him company', she meant 'obey his every whim'. Because he never _asked_ anything; just commanded. Being the caregiver of an overbearing Saiyan male entitled things similar to keeping him out of the way which was harder said then done. Without training, the man's life was pretty much nonexistent. All he did was sit in his room with his door locked, only to emerge when he was hungry or had to relieve his bladder or perform other hygiene issues.

That was just fine with Bulma considering that she never had to see him.

Of course, that didn't last long.

Because after he ran all fifty two of her gourmet, world class chefs out in a frustrated frenzy, she now had to prepare all the meals for him herself. He had also made it perfectly clear that he wouldn't wait or be denied it either. She learned that when he had barged into a very important meeting with a very important client and demanded a sandwich.

The unfortunate thing was that Vegeta ate _a lot_. And by a lot, I mean almost 10 times is actual weight and at least twenty times any human male's weight. And Bulma had no cooking skills. None whatsoever.

So where did that leave them?

Her fixing little scraps of gunk and him having to eat it less he pass out.

"Just eat it." She ordered flatly.

"Is it edible?"

"Damn it!" She exclaimed, slamming her fist on the table. "I'm SICK of your attitude, Vegeta!" She pointed a big wooden spoon at him. "This is all your fault anyway! Eat the shit and stop complaining for once!"

"So you agree that it's shit?"

_Calm down_, Bulma told herself as she squeezed the spoon. _Don't do anything rash or stupid. Yes, it might feel good to bash him in the head with this but it won't solve anything, will it?_

She was still debating on that when the doorbell rung. Leaving Vegeta in the kitchen, she dashed out and answered it, smiling politely before she even realized who it was.

Her smile faded however when she recognized the figure.

He smiled shakily and did a little finger wave. "Hey." He said softly. When she didn't reply, he asked, "Can I come in?"

"I don't know, Yamcha." She said frostily. "Vegeta's in the kitchen. We wouldn't want you to feel _threatened_, now would we?"

Yamcha shifted uncomfortably. A day after the accident, when he had stormed out of her room, he had returned to explain that the only reason he had said those things and acted like a jerk was because he had felt that she was attracted to Vegeta.

_"I feel threatened by his presence."_ Had been his exact words. _"I don't like the way he looks at you sometimes."_

But even after she reassured him that Vegeta was nothing to her and that his mind was playing tricks on him, Bulma still couldn't let something go.

_"What did you mean by me getting hurt?"_ She had questioned innocently.

The next words from his mouth had gotten him a sharp tongue lashing from Bulma and she threw him out of her home.

_"I think he might try to rape you."_

The surprise and rage fueled in her by the comment had almost scared herself. She just couldn't believe that Yamcha would think that. I mean, if Vegeta had wanted to, he would have by now! Besides, she thought certainly, he wouldn't do that. He just wouldn't.

But, for the life of her, she didn't understand why in the hell she had gotten so mad. Afterwards, she told herself it was the fact that Yamcha had said it in a tone that was almost _threatening_ itself. As if he was trying to scare her.

Or get her to throw Vegeta out.

Nonetheless, she was angry. And intent on staying that way.

"Listen Bulma-" He started now, holding out his hands helplessly. "I...I didn't mean what I said. Well, I mean, I _meant_ it but it kind of came out wrong...I...What I _meant_ to say...No, wait-"

"What is it you're trying to say _now_?" She asked tiredly.

"Forgive me?" He made the puppy dog eyes and although they hadn't broken up over their argument, Bulma wondered if he thought they had.

"You're forgiven." She said in a half huff, half pout, doubting her own judgment. What the hell kept making her exonerate him over and over again? I mean, yeah he was pretty hot and was a real sweetie at heart but he had to see what she saw; that they weren't as connected anymore, that they were drifting apart no matter how hard they tried to stay together, that something just wasn't clicking anymore.

That was the reason, right? That was why she couldn't see herself with Yamcha anymore?

And if that wasn't, then what the hell was?

But if it was true, why did she keep going back to him?

All these unanswered questions ran through her mind while Yamcha took her in his arms and kissed her forehead. _I'm hopeless_, Bulma thought sadly.

"Oh, _how heartfelt_." Came the heavily sarcastic voice from behind the couple. They instantly broke apart and turned to stare at the short frame of Vegeta. To Yamcha, Vegeta in normal clothes like pants, a T-shirt and socks (his armor was being washed at the moment) made him look slightly human.

Along as you looked past his unnatural cynical smile.

Yamcha tightened his hold around Bulma as if she'd vanish without his touch. He narrowed his eyes and kept Vegeta's gaze. Bulma sensed the same fiery tautness as before fill the room and struggled out of Yamcha's grip.

"You need something, Vegeta?" She asked, keeping her tone light and friendly. The last thing she wanted to do was say something the wrong way and make the Prince explode in fury. Because the way he stood hinted at such a thing happening.

Breaking his stare from Yamcha, the thick eye browed man gave her a sardonic glance. "Yes, I need food." He held up a hand to silence her before she interrupted. "And I don't mean that revolting mess you tried to pass off as food which, I must say, is now in the trash."

Bulma took a deep breath and let it out slowly. _Keep it cool. Keep it cool._

But Vegeta wasn't done. "I've put up with your annoying presence this whole week while your father repaired the GR and I don't know how much longer it'll take but I can barely stand to look at you anymore. The only thing slightly better is that I don't have to talk to that infuriating woman you call a mother. Now, after all of this, I still haven't blasted one thing or broke anyone's neck and I think you should congratulate me for this because I have mulled it over on different occasions." He narrowed his eyes. "But I draw the line at having you feed me. You're useless in such an area."

The blue haired woman stared at him, mouth open; eyebrows furrowed and felt her control slip. "WELL!" She started in a screech. " If you hadn't scared off all out chefs then I wouldn't HAVE to cook you ANYTHING, now would I!?" She was waving her hands angrily. "AND, if you hadn't completely OBLITHERATED the FUCKING Gravity Machine then you wouldn't be FORCED to _PUT UP_ with me but here's the thing; you DID and so how about you SUCK IT UP and _DEAL WITH IT_!"

Yamcha's mouth dropped open as he stared at Bulma in complete awe and disbelief, her chest heaving up and down with her breaths. He had never gotten berated like that from her all his life. And he had done some pretty dumb things before.

His appreciation of her action vanished instantly however when he laid his eyes on Vegeta. Yamcha gulped.

The short male was literally _shaking_ in fury. His fists were clenched, his eyes were narrowed to slits, his teeth were bared and Yamcha could see his energy increasing, an aura slightly waving his flamed hair.

Now who was he more afraid of? An aggravated Bulma or an enraged Vegeta?

Tough question.

He decided to go with the lather. So, like any good gentlemen would do, he raised his hand (as if he had to ask for permission to speak) and said with a nervous laugh, "Uh...well I mean, if you guys are so...tired of each other and stuff. I could uh..." Wait, what could he do? What could he do to break the tension and get their minds off each other for a while?

The answer hit him like a bullet and he exclaimed, "I'll spar with Vegeta!" He covered his mouth quickly afterwards, eyes wide in fright of his own statement.

_HE'D WHAT?_

Vegeta and Bulma broke their glaring contest to shoot him bewildered looks. Bulma cocked her head to the side and Vegeta raised a bemused eyebrow. Their anger fleetingly disappearing as they contemplated the offer.

"Yamcha, what are you talking about?" Bulma asked in confusion.

"Uh..."Yamcha smiled shakily."Well, I mean...since the GR's getting fixed or whatever...I mean, this could be good for the both of us. I've been slacking in my training as well." _What the fuck are you thinking_, he asked himself, _fighting VEGETA!?_

Vegeta was all ears though. He smirked, folded his arms and said, "I don't have a problem with it." After all, he was fully healed now and hadn't trained in over seven days.

"Oh, well of course you don't!" Bulma protested. "As long as fighting is involved, you'll agree to anything!" Then, turning to Yamcha, she said, "You don't have to if you don't want to, Yamcha."

"I want to." He shrugged, feigning calmness when in actuality, he was scared shitless.

She put a hand on his shoulder and bit her lip. Obviously, she was afraid of the outcome if they did spar. "You sure?"

"Woman would you stop treating him as if he doesn't have a mind of his own?" Vegeta snapped in annoyance. "If he says he wants to do something then he wants to do it. Unless of course, "He smirked."He has to have your authorization, hm? Like a good little pet." He turned to shoot the taller man a taunting smile.

Yamcha narrowed his eyes and all his fear and worry went right out the window. The hostility towards Vegeta was turning full blast much to his excitement. Truth be told, Yamcha had wanted to beat this guy's head in ever since he met him and his arrogance only enhanced that feeling.

The same thing was running through Vegeta's mind. He was more then amused by the look on Yamcha's face. The look of pure anger with a tinge of anticipation. This bout was long overdue, the Prince thought, and who knows? Maybe the human would prove to be entertaining?

But Bulma was frightened. She looked from man to man and sighed, knowing full well she couldn't stop what was going to happen next.

Her worry was for Yamcha more then Vegeta, though because she knew how hard Vegeta trained and how serious he took his abilities. Besides the obvious fact that Vegeta was stronger, Bulma could think of many ways how this could go wrong.

She just prayed that it didn't.

Besides, she tried to cheer herself up, what was the worst case scenario?

Someone died.

Bulma ran a hand down her face and sighed again.

"After you." Yamcha spoke up, gesturing out the door, cracking into her thoughts. She turned and watched Vegeta walk out. A beat after, Yamcha followed, winking at her for reassurance and disappearing out of the door.

She paced, wrung her hands and ran after them. There had to be something she could do, she thought frantically.

But nothing came to mind as she walked outside and spotted them stretch their limbs in preparation. Her eyes widened. Were they fighting on the front lawn!?

Her observation proved to be true when Vegeta said, with a devilish smirk, "Ladies first."

Yamcha narrowed his eyes, crouched into his fighting position and charged.

* * *

Haha.

Now who's going to win? The underdog or our beloved Prince?

&& is Bulma doomed to be confused? Most likely.

Review and find out next time.


	6. A Man's Game

* * *

**_Chapter Five_**

* * *

It was almost as if the beginning happened in slow motion in contrast to the rest of the bout. Vegeta made his characteristically irritating comment, Yamcha sprung forward and they sort of hung there in suspended animation as if it were a scene in a fighting movie and the special effects guy was slowing every bit down for the anxious crowd.

Bulma saw Yamcha retract his right arm, so slowly, so precisely, and then jut it back out when he got in arms length of Vegeta, aiming at his cheek.

Unfortunately, it didn't connect because the Prince dodged it. If one wasn't looking close then it would have been impossible to see the short man recline his head back, only missing the assault by centimeters.

After that, the slow motion stopped.

Bulma watched the two sprint every which way in the air; punching, kicking, growling, bellowing, laughing. She could only see glimpses of the two as they fought; a leg here, a piece of shirt there. She wondered if any one else could spot them and glanced about to observe.

Turns out they weren't _that_ fast. Curious, concerned and fearful eyes were among the spectators as they turned from whatever it was they were doing; strolling down the street, caught in traffic, staring out of a store mirror, working on something at Capsule Corp, and watched Vegeta and Yamcha duke it out. Their suspicious, gasps and scowls only grew at the unnatural speed at which they moved and Bulma felt her stomach tighten.

_Oh shit, I hope this doesn't make the news._

But, much to her dismay, exactly fifteen minutes after the males had begun their battle, trucks rolled onto the CC yawn, careful not to get too close to the spar taking place and reporters from all over scrambled out and started to set up their tripods and cameras; hoping to be the very first one who got the scoop.

Unbeknownst to all the commotion and clamoring they had caused, the Saiyan and scar faced man continued.

And, as he suspected, Yamcha was losing. Quite badly.

At the moment, Vegeta had a nice grip on his ankle and was slamming him hard against the dirt. Yamcha quickly regained footing of the free foot and twisted in his hold, kicking out and actually catching Vegeta on his chin.

He stumbled back and Yamcha was free; jumping backwards to get out of reach in case he intended to counter. Vegeta stood stoic for a beat before cracking his neck and giving his opponent a look that Yamcha could only translate into: "That was a lucky shot."

For it only being a few minutes or so since they've started, Yamcha had sufficient scars already. He felt blood running down his face, knew that at least two of his teeth were broken and there was a sharp pain running through his chest.

Vegeta, on the other hand, didn't look as worn. Only a few superficial scars adjourned his face and arms and he had had to relocate his jaw but nothing more serious.

Bulma noticed the differences in them instantly when they finally slowed down to a halt and stared at each other across the grass. She saw how much harder Yamcha was breathing; his chest heaving up and down drastically with every breath compared to Vegeta's slightly labored breathing which was barely recognizable.

"You're seeing it, folks!" Called out a rather loud reporter as he, unwisely stepped closer to the men. "Live from Channel Eight News with Yatsuki Greens. Right here on the front lawn of the widely diverse and renowned Capsule Corporation there seems to be..."He gestured wildly behind him but kept his eyes on the camera in the young brown haired teen's hand. "A confrontation going on!" He twisted his head to stare at them before turning his gaze back again. "And there-"

He stopped short however when a collective gasp rose from the onlookers. Everyone watched in horrific fascination as the shorter, flame haired man brought his arm back and...some sort of...bright ball was forming in it!

"What does he think he's doing!?" Bulma nearly screamed. She had positioned herself pretty far from the bout and was hiding behind a few bushes in hope that no one recognized her and came over to father information. Because, after all, they were fighting on _her_ lawn. And she didn't feel like trying to explain to nosy reporters what this was all about. Mostly because she couldn't think of a good lie yet.

Yamcha noticed it immediately and his eyes widened. "Vegeta!" He half whispered, half yelled. "There are people around here you can't-"

"Tough luck." He spat out with a smirk before sending the medium sized ki ball towards his opponent.

Yamcha growled and stood his ground; deflecting the beam upwards towards the sky.

"Holy shit!" Another reporter exclaimed; his glasses sliding off his face as he dropped to his knees in astonishment. "What-Why-Wh- Did anyone else see that!?" He asked, actually praying that he was hallucinating.

Mr. Greens stood star struck for a beat before exploding, "WOW! Well you saw it here first folks!" He was close up to the camera lens. "And I have to admit, I wouldn't have believed it until I saw it. There seems to have been some sort of...ball of light coming from the gloved man's hand! Unbelievable!"

Bulma grinded her teeth. She wasn't as enthusiastic about the display. In fact, she was down right pissed.

Yamcha gave Vegeta a wide eyed look. "You can't just shoot beams Vegeta! We-" But he was abruptly and painfully cut off when Vegeta appeared before him and smashed his elbow into his jaw. Yamcha's head snapped back with a force that should have broken his neck and landed flat on his back. He didn't have time to get up before the Prince balled his hands into a fist and punched downwards towards his face.

Yamcha's eyes widened and he moved his head out of the way and Vegeta's fist slammed into the ground causing a slight crater to form from its impact. The man lying on the ground looked at it incredulously and thought in fear and anger, _this guy's trying to kill me!_

His look must have given his thought away because Vegeta sent him a look that said, _well duh._

Yamcha grunted, wrapped his hand around Vegeta's wrist and jerked backwards with al his strength, sending the short man off the ground and into the air at an incredibly fast rate.

Another gasp ran through the crowd and they all shielded their eyes in anticipation for a very rough and maybe fatal landing. Bulma wondered vaguely if any one of them had bothered to call the police or something. Probably not, she thought afterwards, seeing how everyone was highly engrossed in the fight going on.

But of course there was another uproar of screams and gasps and unintelligible yells when Vegeta did _not_ land. Instead, he stopped right in midair, upside down and his mouth twitched into a scowl. He was too focused on the task at hand to realize that there were dozens of people watching his every move.

"Oh no..."Bulma sighed, hanging her head in exasperation.

Yamcha got to his feet slowly and looked up at the figure in sky, waiting.

"Oh my Dende!" Yatsuki, who has became the only reporter who was still broadcasting and had actually kept it together enough, screamed more to his cameraman then he camera. "Now it appears that the man is...."He turned towards Vegeta as if he had to make sure."Well, he's...Shit, he's _flying_!"

Yells from civilians cut through the air;

"Maybe they're aliens!"

"One looks familiar!"

"I think both of them are pretty cute!" The woman got a pretty hard glare from everyone else for that comment.

"Should we stop them!?"

"Can we stop them?"

"Mommy, I want to fly!"

The little boy was hushed by his hysterical mother and Bulma decided enough was enough. She was gonna have to clear this all up and get them to stop fighting.

But how?

Vegeta righted himself in the air and glanced down, only now seeing the people standing around staring up at him. He raised an eyebrow and wondered how long they had been standing there.

Oh no matter. He had a weakling human to pound. His eyes flickered back to Yamcha who, n his opinion, looked like he was ready to pass out. Vegeta smirked. Hah, he thought he could keep up with a Saiyan? Nonsense. The man was as dumb as he was weak; a dangerous combination for a so called "fighter".

But, the flame haired man thought reluctantly, he hadn't been _that_ bad. He had managed to keep his ground on numerous occasions and get a few hits in. Not very entertaining but quite impressive nonetheless.

It didn't matter, he thought again as a wide smirk spread across his lips. It'd all be over soon. Nothing was on the male's mind at the moment but winning. Victory clouded his judgment and he didn't think of his actions as he spread out both of his arms and powered up.

Everyone watched for what he'd do next; including Yamcha who had a fairly good idea but couldn't bring himself to move quick enough.

Everyone except Bulma that was. She was pissed and frustrated and had a headache. She was going to have to deal with paparazzi for weeks about this. And what could she say?

She could blame it all on an invention of hers. The idea made her face brightened. Perfect! If she could make capsules and other world renowned inventions then surely they would believe her when she said she had created a way for people to fly and shoot energy beams, right?

She'd have to try. But of course, when everyone asked for her invention she'd lie and say it malfunctioned and it'd take a few years to make another one. And hopefully, after that, everyone would forget about it. Foolproof plan.

But first she had to stop Yamcha and Vegeta.

So, that was what she had in mind, when she very recklessly stumbled out of the bushes and sprinted out towards the battle field.

No one noticed her until it was too late.

Two ki balls had formed in Vegeta hand and he brought them together slowly shouting, "FINAL FLASH!" Sending the rather large thing towards the ground, towards Yamcha who had growled deep in his throat, braced himself and prayed to the Gods that he could reflect this without hurting some one.

Towards Bulma who was now a couple steps away from getting right into the path of the ki ball.

Vegeta saw her first and his first emotion was irritation. _What the fuck was she doing?_ But then he saw where she was heading and something inside of him started to pound so loud he was sure it'd bust through his chest. It took him a moment to realize it was his heart.

Yamcha saw her next. He caught a glimpse of her blue hair in his peripheral vision, turned slightly and fear instantly stuck through his body. His eyes widened and he looked up at the fast approaching energy beam and didn't know what to do. Could he deflect the beam in time before it hit her or should he just save her and see what happened?

No, it'd destroy everything. It'd kill all the humans around here.

_DAMN._

The spectators saw her next and they started to scream and yell and point and scramble away, some praying for the safety of the blue haired heiress and others praying for their _own_ safety.

Yamcha dodged for his girlfriend in a last ditch effort, cradling her in his arms and trying to roll out of the way. Bulma, who had finally seen the ki ball, screamed and closed her eyes.

_It was going to hit them. She was going to die. Yamcha was going to die._

That was the last thing on her mind before a bright light flashed and an explosion rocked the ground.

* * *

I know what you all are thinking; _Man Vegeta is such a jackass!_

Well yes but his faults are why we love him. And, don't worry, this is still a _V/B_. I'm sure most of you are like; _well _t_here is he B/V at!? _ I'll get better, trust me. It's just that I'm not a Yamcha hater and I don't like bashing him so he looks pretty good, huh? ^_^

But he isn't all _that_. I mean, who do you think is going to save them? ^_~ Whoops. Gave away too much already.

Review and I'll update! (I'll update either way really, haha.)


	7. Kiss the Wounds

I don't know why I can't stop updating this story. I guess I should consider it good fortune that I don't have writers' block at least.

* * *

**_Chapter Six_**

* * *

Irony.

It was a bitch. The most irritating concept in language. Because, no matter when it was used, there was a very surprising and bittersweet conclusion.

This was the thought in Vegeta's mind as he appeared before the crouched figure of the ex- bandit and the blue haired woman just in time to turn his body so _his_ beam, _his Final Flash_, could pierce his right arm instead of them or the ground. The pain was pretty severe and the Prince grunted through clenched teeth and, on some prideful, sadistic level, he was glad that it hurt so much. Since that meant that he was getting more powerful because this was, as he had said before,_ his_ very own beam.

He would have deflected it but there hadn't been enough time. So all he could do was get in its path.

The explosion next produced a painfully bright light and he was thrown backwards onto his back.

Irony, he thought bitterly. This was the very definition of that:

Shooting a Ki blast at an opponent but, at the last second, getting in its way to _save_ him. Albeit, he hadn't _wanted_ to save Yamcha. He was just indirectly in the equation.

He wanted to save Bulma.

But the reason for that was too unbearable and unreasonable to think about so he didn't. He just closed his eyes and endured the sharp pain racing through his arm.

-------------------------

Bulma finally opened her eyes slowly and blinked. She had expected to experience pain but nothing came. She then peeked out of the arms of Yamcha who was still holding onto her tightly and looked around.

Wait, she was still at Capsule Corporation? Not Heaven? (Because she did believe she'd go to Heaven and not Hell)

Yamcha stirred next and his expression let her know that he was just as baffled and confused about the outcome as well. Obviously, he didn't think _he'd_ survive.

The two broke apart and turned; only to see the short figure of Vegeta laid out on his back in quite a large crater. Panic instantly engulfed Bulma and she crawled over to him in less then a few seconds and gasped down at his body.

His right arm was bloody; very, very bloody. The short sleeves on his shirt had been seared off on that side and all the blood was dripping down onto the grass and soaking his shirt.

Damn, it was a lot of blood.

"Holy shit." Apparently, Yamcha thought so also.

The few stragglers, who had stayed after, stood up from their crouched position and looked on at the scene before them with anxiety. Yatsuki Greens was one of them. Unfortunately, his cameraman had taken off so he couldn't report what he saw.

But then again, he wouldn't have. Because his mouth was wide open, his mic had dropped from his hand and his toupee was lopsided on his shiny, bald head. He was speechless and couldn't form any words at all.

Bulma frantically motioned for Yamcha to come over. "Come on! We have to get him inside! He's losing a lot of blood." Her voice was a mere squeak of fear but she couldn't really hear herself. The blood was rushing through her ears, pounding painfully and she couldn't take her eyes off of Vegeta.

Yamcha wasn't as sympathetic as she was. He noticed the worry and concern in her voice and grimaced at it. Was she serious?

"Yamcha!" She whirled to face him; eyes wide. "Come ON! We gotta get him inside!" Her heart was pounding painfully against her ribcage and for a minute, she thought she was having a heart attack. _Oh God...Oh God..._

But Yamcha wasn't moving. He was still on the ground, staring at her with a set jaw. _What the fuck was wrong with him?_

"Yamcha damn it-" She stopped mid sentence and turned towards the man lying on the ground when he grunted and hope filled her eyes. "Vegeta!?"

His eyes snapped open, dark and wary as they flickered to her face. They narrowed when he saw how upset she was because that had been exactly what he wished she _wouldn't_ be. He coughed and tried to sit up and was only mildly annoyed when she put his good arm around her shoulders and helped him rise. He wanted to stop her; yell at her and tell her that he didn't need her help, shove her away from him, _something _that didn't leave him leaning on her for support.

But he didn't. Not because the pain was too extreme. More so because he liked the way she felt, the warmth she gave off, the perfumed scent of her skin. He liked the way she put a hand on his chest and made sure to be extra careful as they walked inside Capsule Corporation.

And most of all, he liked the way she was smiling at him right now. An exasperated but relieved smile. Like she was glad that he was okay but knew that, on some level, they'd be in this spot again someday. Because, after all, she couldn't stop him from the reckless things he did.

Vegeta grimaced at his own thoughts, wondering why in the hell he was trying to dig so much deeper into her facial expressions and body language.

And why had he made a reference about her that indicated they were, in a way, in a relationship? Whether it be as friends or...more.

While the Prince mulled in frustration over these things, Yamcha watched them disappear into the dome shaped building with his own thoughts and a grimace. Bulma had barely glanced at him while she carried Vegeta off.

And damn it, Yamcha hadn't liked the image of his girlfriend helping someone who had almost killed him or at least, injured him badly.

Go figure.

------------------

"Damn it woman, could you be any slower?"

Bulma rolled her eyes and shot the short man sitting on the bed in the infirmary a withered look. "I'm trying not to hurt you, okay?" She said before continuing to wrap the bandages around his recently cleaned off arm.

"For the last time; you will not hurt me." He said arrogantly. _Well, he was back to normal_, she thought wryly. It had been surprising enough when he had left her help him all the way here without so much as a word or glare but she guessed that it was too much to ask if he could just shut the hell up and let her do this the way she wanted to do.

Her father, who had been down in his lab working on the new dimensions and what not for the Gravity Machine he intended to make, had spotted her as she came in and had instantly gone into alert. After letting him know everything was alright, Bulma brought Vegeta here to clean his wound, put some alcohol on it and bandage it up. Her mother was no where in sight so they concluded that she was probably out shopping. Which was perfectly logical considering that Vegeta ate so much.

Now, the blond woman chose to prance into the room with a fresh plate of fruits and sandwiches piled up, her usual smile lighting up her flawless face. "My my," She cooed at the Saiyan much to his annoyance, sitting the plate down on a nearby table. "I heard you got hurt again,_ Vegeta_."

Bulma covered up a smile at her mother's transparent attempts at flirting and keep wrapping his arm.

Vegeta shot the older woman a glare that didn't seem to faze her.

"I just brought up some food so you can heal up better." She grinned down at him and patted his good arm. "I know how fit you like to be."

Then, she was off, humming happily to herself, not bothering to close the door.

"Disgusting." Vegeta spat out, shaking his head. "That maddening old maid makes me want to vomit."

"Oh come on," Bulma couldn't help but grin at his expression of pure revulsion. She didn't know why but it made her feel a tinge happier that he hadn't came on to her mother at all. She might have been a wee bit annoying but she was pretty, no doubt. But of course he wouldn't come on to a _weak Earthling woman_. The thought made her smile diminish some. "My mom isn't _that_ bad."

He scoffed. "I'd rather spend time with Kakarot then her." And it was true. At least Goku provided a chance to spar. All Mrs. Briefs did was hit on him and dry him insane until he wanted to blast her. Not only that but she was always _happy_. How could someone be that happy all the damn time? Vegeta couldn't figure it out.

The blue haired woman simply rolled her eyes again at his dramatic statement and continued patching him up. She was almost done when he said, quietly with a hint of something she couldn't pinpoint,

"Why did you run out onto the battlefield?"

Bulma glanced up at him with wide eyes, surprised by his abrupt statement but knowing they'd talk about it sooner or later. Vegeta wasn't one to forget things. The look on his face made her cheeks burn. His eyes were narrowed, one side of his mouth lifted in a cynical smirk, one dark eyebrow raised. His expression wasn't one of disdain. It was just...savage curiosity. Like he had to know the reason less he explode.

She stood dumbstruck for a moment before responding with, "I was going to try and stop you two."

Her answer obviously wasn't what he wanted to hear because he growled, "Idiot. You have a scientific brain that can compete with almost any one yet you continue to do the most foolish, bizarre actions."

His statement made her narrow her eyebrows. "Excuse me? I'm not the one going around fighting on lawns, trying to show off how much testosterone I have and shooting off energy beams at innocent people, now am I!?"

"What the hell does that have to do with you-?"

"EVERYTHING!" She put hands on hips. "Have you ever stopped to think about anyone other then YOURSELF? You could have KILLED somebody!"

Vegeta clenched his teeth and strained out, "And what makes you think I give a damn about the health of others?"

Bulma paused and said, almost coyly. "Well...you care about my health. Otherwise, you would have left me for dead."

Her bold statement made the scowl on his face freeze. He stared at her, at her raised eyebrows and smug expression and couldn't think of one thing to utter back at her.

Finally, he said in a low voice, "It wouldn't have been strong enough to kill you."

"So you just didn't want me hurt?" The question came out more as a realization as she pondered it, her eyes growing wide. She just couldn't understand this guy at all. One minute, he'd threaten her and then the next, he'd save her.

Before either of them could fill the silence, there was a sharp rap at the door. They both turned to see Yamcha; a wry smile on his face, leaning on the door frame, a bandage over his eyebrow. "Am I interrupting something?" The sarcasm in his words was painfully obvious and she felt guilty. He turned to give his girlfriend a firm stare. "Can I talk to you?"

"Uh...After I finish-"

"_Now_."

Bulma stared at him in disbelief. His tone had been hard, commanding and a bit threatening which was completely unlike him. She frowned and then marched out of the room, letting Yamcha close the door shut on an amused looking Vegeta.

As soon as they were alone in the hallway, she swung to give him her fiercest glare. "What was that about?"

But Yamcha was calm. He folded his arms across his chest and regarded her coldly before asking coolly, "What was what?" She narrowed her eyes even more and he feigned surprise. "OH! _That_?" He motioned towards the closed door. "Yeah, that was me getting my girlfriend away from a cold blooded killer to speak with her." More sarcasm.

She breathed in deeply. "Are you really going to start this again? I told you before not to be jealous of-"

"Vegeta?" He sneered. "Your love? Your one and only?"

Bulma scrunched up her face in confusion. She had never seen the ex-bandit so nasty before. "What the hell are you talking about?!"

"You don't know?" He snorted.

"What is the matter with you?" She asked flatly, growing tired of his sour attitude.

"Of course you don't know what's the matter with me. _OF COURSE_." He scoffed and shrugged. "I mean you're so busy worrying about _Vegeta_ to know what's wrong with me. Isn't that right?"

All she could get out of his words was that he was angered, maybe still jealous of her and Vegeta. "You're acting freakishly immature, Yamcha."

"Well, excuse me, should I act more like Vegeta?" He asked snottily. She sighed and set her jaw in a frown. "Should I try and abuse you and belittle you and call you derogatory names, hm? Is that what tickles your fancy? Wait! I got it. Maybe I should try and _murder_ some one. Then will you fall into my arms?"

She had had enough. Balling up her hands and biting down on her lip, Bulma tried to keep her anger in check as she forced out in the most even voice she could, "I think you should leave."

"Oh okay." He did a mock bow that made her anger rise. "I forgot you have to get back to Vegeta."

"I'm sorry you're so insecure, _Yamcha_." She said to his back, perfecting a mock of her own. "But I mean, I guess I would be too if I tried to compete with some one who was much better then me."

The look on his face when he spun around made her wish she hadn't said it. It was an expression mixed with intense anger yet sorrow. Her words had stung him, no doubt. Damn it, she thought in frustration, it was his fault! He started it!

Yamcha clapped arrogantly and smiled sadly. "Well, I've just got my answer."

"Answer to what?" She was still deftly mad but couldn't help to look confused and cock her head to the side._ Look angry, look angry, look angry._

"I came to give you an ultimatum actually."

His words sent her anger into full blown fury. An Ultimatum!? The nerve! She put her hands behind her back to keep from clawing at his face.

"I wanted you to choose: Me or Vegeta. And if you chose me, you'd have to kick him out." He looked at her, completely devoid of his initial anger and Bulma dropped her facade to give him a pained look.

"I'm not kicking him out." She told him in a whisper.

He laughed indignantly. "I know. I knew that from the moment you went and helped him instead of helping me."

"What do you mean!? You weren't-" Then she stopped and gasped, his words finally seeping in. She _had_ thrown Yamcha aside. She hadn't even _thought_ about him until now. She looked him over now and noticed now; the bandage on his forehead, the bruise on his forearm, the way he was slightly limping. She closed her eyes and breathed out a curse. How could she have abandoned her_ boyfriend_?

"Goodbye Bulma."

That said, Yamcha who she assumed was now her ex, walked away and all she could do was watch; unable to stop him and tell him that she was sorry.

Because, truth be told, as scary and disorientating as the thought was, if she had to, she didn't think she would have done things any differently.

------------------------

Although he knew something was wrong, more so because he had heard the entire argument than because he could read her face, Vegeta remained quiet as she jerkily finished wrapping his arm and taped it down. It wasn't as if he cared that her scum of a man disliked him or even that they had broken up. Actually, it made him feel victorious once again. The dumb Earthling had left the woman because he suspected something going on between_ him_ and Bulma? Idiot. There was nothing he liked about the wench. Nothing at all.

Especially not the scent on her skin or her soft touch. _Especially_ not that.

She stepped back, admired her work and gave him a surprisingly happy smile. "There. All done. Feel better?"

He simply snorted and she took that as a, "Why Yes, thank you Beautiful Bulma of Earth."

Vegeta hopped down off the bed, stretched out his cast and turned and walked out, leaving the woman alone. He needed to get away from her before he went crazy. She had questioned him once about his earlier actions and he didn't want to be caught in that again. He had no logical answer as to why she invoked feelings in him that wanted to protect her. At least, not one that he liked or wanted to agree with.

It was only a few seconds later when he realized he had no where to go so he backtracked to the room, planning on giving her a hard time until her father fixed the GR. He also needed new attire because his current ones were soaked with blood. Maybe if he kept talking she'd forget about their previous conversation.

But, when he arrived back, he abruptly stopped in the doorway, witnessing something peculiar and unexpected.

Bulma was crying. Soft, small, weak cries.

She was sitting on the bed, the same spot where he had just been, with her hands were covering her face. He could see some tears fall from her chin onto her shirt.

Unfamiliar with such actions, he just stood there motionless. He knew he should have left but something was keeping him from doing so.

Then she looked up and stared right at him as if she had sensed his presence. Her eyes were swollen, her face was red and she was wiping snot off her lip.

Very awkwardly, Vegeta asked quietly, "Why do you cry over such a weakling?"

The statement shocked her. How had he known who she was crying over? Why had he come back? What was that infliction in his voice? Confusion? Resentment? Concern?

She wiped her face, sniffed, glided off the bed and shot him a shaky smile. "I'm not..."She paused and found herself saying instead, "Me and Yamcha were together for a long time. It....It hurts to know that we won't be any longer."

He raised an eyebrow. "He'll be back. Scurrying after you like a dog on a leash." The last line was said in disgust.

"He might be." She avoided his gaze. "But I'm not so sure I'll take him back."

Vegeta gave her a curious look. "Oh really? What has caused your sudden change in heart?"

She frowned at his sarcasm. "We just aren't meant for each other."

"So what's the point of crying over it?"

Bulma gave him a disapproving look and sniffed again. "You...you just wouldn't understand. It's about emotions and I'm quite sure you have none." She hadn't meant to sound so rude and aggressive but the short male's haughty and amused tone was aggravating her. She wouldn't be all too surprised if he had laughed outright at her misery.

Yet this was the man she was losing everything over. This was the man Yamcha was jealous of. This was the man who had caused her break up....kind of. This was the man who she was.....drawn to for lack of admitting that she was attracted to him.

This was the man who cared about her health. Or so it seemed.

"You're right. I have no time for silly emotions." He retorted back with another scoff.

Bulma smiled lightly. "Actually, now I think about it, _you d_o. I can't believe I almost forgot." He gave her a questioning look and she burst into a grin. "Because, after all, you saved me. Twice now. What would that emotion be called?"

_Damn_, he thought in anger, scowling, _she brought it back up again_. "What did you have in mind?" He asked dryly, stalking over to her, daring her to say something.

His expression didn't imitate her....._that much_. "Concern? Worry? Fear? Unease? Alarm?" She smirked at his narrowed eyes. "Pick you favorite."

"I choose them all."

Bulma looked down at him with wild, bewildered eyes. She hadn't really expected him to answer that and, if he did, she had thought he'd saw something arrogant or at the very least, something more_ Vegeta_-like.

He enjoyed the look on her voice and smirked. He liked to perplex her if only to see her eyebrows shot up as they had done. There was nothing more fulfilling to put someone smug in their place which, he guessed, could be why she worked so hard to push _his_ buttons.

Either way, he couldn't stop here. He'd have to shake her up a little more to make her believe that she had completely underestimated how far he'd go.

And that was the reason he kept telling himself for what he did next.

Bulma didn't have time to react when Vegeta grabbed her wrist, pulled her towards him so that their bodies were flush up against each other and pressed his lips to hers roughly.

When they came apart, Bulma was left standing there dumbly, mouth slightly open, blinking into space. She watched him walk away with out a single word of even a glance back and furrowed her eyebrows. She touched her lips as if she wanted to confirm what had happened.

But the remembrance of _his_ lips on hers was proof enough. Rough, hard and wildly erotic. There had been no gentleness about it. Just pure, raw lust. Bulma wondered if he was the same way in bed.

The thought brought a blush to her cheeks and covered her face, although no one was with her and walked out with a shake of head.

Okay so maybe she was a little more then _drawn_ to Prince Vegeta.

* * *

No no, Bulma, kissing another guy after a break up _isn't slutty_. Haha. ^_^

Hope you enjoyed it. Reviews are appreciated. Next chapter will be up soon, hopefully.


	8. A Page For the Diary

Hooray for another day without writers' block! ^_^

ENJOY;;

* * *

**_Chapter Seven_**

* * *

Dr. Briefs wasn't a man of much hostility. In actuality, he resented it. He wasn't one to get angered quickly, lash out or even promote ill will towards others. He believed there was good in everyone, human, animal or whatever and could wait patiently for the few, who had yet to show him good deeds, perform such.

So he was quite astounded at how impromptu his outlook changed simply because of one man.

"I understand your reasons for wanting this but I don't think-"

"You're quite right,_ doctor_, you don't think. So how about you just do as I say because my patience is wearing thin."

The good doctor furrowed his eyebrows in disbelief. His patience wearing thin? Bah.

At the moment, Vegeta was standing behind him; arms crossed in their usual manner, face placid if you excluded one lone vein that could be seen throbbing in his forehead.

The two alpha males were down in Dr. Briefs' laboratory working on the new layout and design for a Gravity Machine. Well, better yet, Dr. Briefs was listening to Vegeta demand unreasonable things and trying to explain that such tasks couldn't be done.

For one, he wanted stronger steel. Dr. Briefs, having used the strongest steel known to man (human man, that is) told him he'd just have to reinforce more and hope for the best. Vegeta wasn't too pleased by that and he commenced to glaring and shouting about how that wouldn't suffice.

After a good hour of arguing over that, Vegeta grudgingly changed the subject and said, "Well, I don't want the circuit box on the outside." Dr. Briefs knew the reason behind that statement was because his daughter had somehow interrupted his training and so forth a while ago. Unfortunately, the purple haired man said it'd be dangerous to put it on the inside considering how brutal Vegeta trained. This issued for more glaring, a string of curses and rapid insults.

Strangely enough, that bout only lasted about twenty minutes. Now they were on the subject of the size.

Vegeta wanted it bigger. Dr. Briefs claimed it'd be better if it were smaller for reasons such as; easier access, easier to navigate, more steel used as layers and that it wouldn't collapse on Capsule Corp if he managed to blow it up.

"Now Vegeta-" He stopped abruptly when a fist slammed on the desk in front of his computer and turned around, his glasses sliding down his face a tad.

"It's been over a week now, old man." He whispered with fury. "And you still haven't completed _any_thing yet. Do you know what being deprived of training does to a Saiyan? Hm? It makes them, "Vegeta gave him a devilish smirk."Homicidal."

Although the doctor suspected that he was only trying to intimidate him (Since Goku never got "homicidal"), he was pretty scared at the look on the shorter male's face and laughed nervously. He tried to be inconspicuous when he rolled his chair away to gain space. "Well you do know that I'm a busy man...haha...and, uh...you have been a bit irrational with your requests..."

Vegeta cocked his head to the side and growled. "Nonsense. You're the one who can't perform anything right. I hope the gravity settings have improved at least." He snorted, closed his eyes and folded his arms back again.

Dr. Briefs grinned at that. It was the only thing he _could_ do. Whenever this thing was finished, Vegeta would be able to set the gravity up to almost 1000x's!

But of course, neither of them told Bulma about it. She'd have a fit.

Speak of the devil, the purple haired man thought when he heard the door open and spotted Bulma coming down the stairs. She had a plate of sandwiches stacked on a plate and looked to be in a good mood as she set it down, leaned back on his desk and smiled.

"You two have been working pretty hard so mom thought you needed a break." She explained, plucking a sandwich off of the plate. She watched both males eye it with wary and said in a frustrated sigh, "Don't worry, I didn't make them."

Dr. Briefs took one after that but Vegeta stayed still, having moved off to the side when Bulma arrived. He avoided eye contact with her and she pursed her lips in annoyance. Aside from running into each other here and there and scurrying away awkwardly, she hadn't really spoken to the proud Saiyan since he had been in the infirmary a few days ago.

Since the kiss. The unexpected, crazy, alluring kiss.

She studied her feet to cover up a blush heating her cheeks and took a bite of the sandwich. Great, she thought tiredly, you're thinking about it again. Because she had been thinking about it almost every day of every minute of every second. And she'd be lying if she said she hadn't dreamed about the man either.

These dreams were PG-13 either. They contained "Mature content." warnings and much, _much_ more kissing.

Regrettably enough, she hadn't really thought about Yamcha at all and he hadn't called. Now, she bit her lip and hope that they could remain friends. She needed one at the moment considering her sudden attraction to Vegeta that scared the mess out of her.

"Yes well, Vegeta and I have been discussing things."

Bulma snapped from her gaze and turned to her father. He had a stern look on his face and for a split second, she wondered if he had read her mind and disapproved of her thoughts. But then he stared at his computer and she realized he meant the blueprints.

"Oh?" She dared a look at the Prince and found him staring at the wall. "Well, what have you got so far?"

Dr. Briefs rubbed his hands together, widened his smile, opened his mouth and uttered, "Nothing." In a flat voice. His fake excitement dwindled down to agitated exhaustion as his forehead fell forward on the desk and he sighed.

"What?" Bulma blinked. "Why not?"

"Because your father is a moron."

She turned to give Vegeta narrowed eyes. "And yet I have an inkling that _you _are the reason for the holdup."

He scoffed. "It's not my fault you wimpy humans cannot meet my demands."

Bulma walked over to him, much to his chagrin. He had been keeping a strict distance from the woman for the simple fact that he was sure she was an evil witch and had placed some sort of spell that caused him to grow...restless and confused whenever she neared.

Was it too far fetched? He didn't think so now as she stared down at him, hands on her hips with a smug expression on her face. Now what was the most logical rationale of why he was staring at her hips? He had never done so before...of he didn't _think_ he had. There had been no need to before because she was just a silly human female that he could use to provide what he needed.

So why the fuck was he wondering what she would look like with that dress at her knees?

"I bet you _I_ could meet your demands."

Vegeta's eyes darted to meet hers and for a minute he suspected that she had seen him looking at her body and was offering herself to him. It took him a moment to recall their previous conversation and determine she was still on the subject of the GR.

"Doubtful."

Bulma folded her arms and tapped her foot. "Well what are they?"

He smirked. "A larger room with much stronger steel and no way to shut off, disable or short circuit anything from the _outside_." He gave her a knowing look after the last statement and she grinned.

"Well that doesn't sound too bad."

Dr. Briefs, who had been silent through the whole exchange, finally took the time to raise his head and gave the two weary looks. "Now Bulma dear, you know such a thing can't be done. There are security measures-"

"Don't worry,_ dad_." Bulma shifted her body so that the Saiyan couldn't see her wink deviously. "It'll be perfectly okay."

Her father instantly understood and rolled his eyes at his daughter's face. She was up to something.

"You know, now that I think about it there's some prototype metal that is down in the basement." She blinked, tapping her chin. "Isn't it suppose to withstand quite a lot?"

Dr. Briefs furrowed his eyebrows and exclaimed, "Now why hadn't I thought of that!" He swiveled around to stare at his computer. "You know, that isn't such a bad idea....I could configure it there...add a little here....Well, of course, this would have to..."

Bulma let her father ramble on to himself and turned back to Vegeta with a sweet smile he returned with a scowl. "Of course, it hasn't been tested yet. Care to be our guinea pig?"

"Woman, did you just insult my appearance!?"

She rolled her eyes, shook her head and started towards the door. "Never mind. Just follow me."

But Vegeta was still wary, confused and angry. He stood his ground, eyeing her sharply. "Where to?" He spat out.

"The basement."

"Why?"

"To get the prototype."

"Why must I accompany you?"

"Is this twenty questions!?" She spun around and gave him a tired look. "Because you have to _carry_ it. It's pretty heavy."

"The Prince of Saiyans doesn't perform such menial tasks. Have one of your lackeys help you." He stated haughtily, turning up his nose at her.

Bulma puffed out her cheeks and then brightened when an idea hit her. She shrugged and feigned being nonchalant. "Fine. I understand if you're not _strong_ enough to carry it or whatever. I guess I'll just have to call Goku."

She turned her back and smiled evilly, completely missing but sensing the outraged look on Vegeta's face. _One...two....three._

He was suddenly beside her, pushing her out of the way, muttering, "Show me where this contraption is, woman. I don't have all day."

Bulma beamed, feeling joyous at her attempt at mind control. He was such an easy target. She followed him out saying, "Well if you insist....."

* * *

"OW!" Bulma exclaimed, holding her head where something hard had just hit it. She swung around only to hit her toe on something and held back a scream. She grabbed the offended toe, stumbled back and fell flat on her back, dust collecting on her dress. In the pitch black darkness of the Capsule Corporation basement, the blue haired heiress groaned.

Suddenly, the black vanished as light filtered in. She blinked and looked up at an unimpressed Vegeta staring down at her, his hand on the dangling, old, metal light switch that connected to the large light on the ceiling.

She smiled up at him nervously and he rolled his eyes, muttering something about "clumsy females."

She painfully got to her feet and sucked in a breath at the sight before her. Boxes were piled high all around, papers, screws and other miscellaneous items spilled from them, scattering around the floor. Dust was everywhere; on the floor, on the walls, on the things and now, on _her_. Spider webs and flies adjourned the corners and there was practically no room to move around.

"We should really clean up down here."She mumbled to herself, pushing things out of the way. Vegeta stood stoic behind her, arms crossed, silent.

Bulma dropped to her knees and began to rummage through the boxes one by one; pulling things out, looking at them, stuffing things back in. She was well into her fifth box before the Saiyan Prince exploded with, "Woman, at this pace, a decade could pass and you _still_ wouldn't be finished!"

She blew a strand of hair out of her face and turned to give him a bored look. "Well if you moved your stiff ass and actually helped me then maybe we'd get done quicker."

His eye twitched as he watched her continue. Tiny dust particles still floating around her, her hair had been put up in a messy ponytail and she had removed her heels. It occurred to him that she wasn't afraid to get dirty.

He smirked at his own revelation but quickly wiped it of his face. Great, he thought angrily, the evil witch strikes again.

"Hey!"

Vegeta turned to her at the exclamation and found her holding some sort of book. He raised an eyebrow.

"Oh man, I thought I lost this old thing! Who put it down here?" She was talking to herself, hugging it to her chest. She then proceeded to flip through its pages.

His mouth twitched into a scowl. "Woman, I hope you're reading about where the fucking prototype is because if not then-"

"Oh don't get your tail in a knot." She told him flatly receiving a low growl in return. Then, holding up the book, she asked excitedly. "Do you know what this is?"

Vegeta stared at it in confusion. It couldn't be a weapon could it? Too small. Maybe it had coordinates of vital statuses? Or maybe it was simply a cook book? He finally gave up and asked reluctantly, "What is it?"

"It's my old diary!"

"......What the fuck is a diary?"

Bulma's chest fell as did her previous excitement and was replaced with disappointment and annoyance. "You don't know what a diary is?"

"If I knew then would I be asking?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Well.....it's like a log, a journal people keep about their lives....and stuff."

Genuine confusion came onto his face. "Why would someone want to do that?"

"Well....to remember their past."

He chuckled ruefully. "I haven't kept a 'diary' and I can remember my past fine. Ironically, however, that's the one thing I'd like to forget."

Bulma grimaced and looked away. She didn't want to see the bitter, sarcastic, guarded remains of what Freiza had left over in the man. Because that was what he was, right? A tortured soul able to escape from what could only be called captivity only to result in the mean spirited, arrogant man he was today.

She suddenly found herself wondering how the fire haired Saiyan had been as a child. Before he was forced to do Freiza's bidding.

Then she pondered what would have happened if he hadn't been controlled. Would he still have become evil? Would she have ever met him?

She glanced back up at him and found that he was staring at her quizzically. Then irritation flashed on his face for a split second and she knew that, just by looking at her face, he saw what she had been thinking. Or, more pointedly, what she _felt_ for him.

"I don't need your pity."

"I know." She said softly, smiling lightly. He only narrowed his eyes at her statement and 'hmped.' "You know," She said, brightening up suddenly. "I think I'll keep this and continue to write in it."

Vegeta snorted. "Thank you for sharing that insignificant detail with me. Now, can we find that blasted prototype?"

Bulma rolled her eyes, locked the diary back up, stuffed it under her arm and got to her feet. "Fine. We-" She turned and her leg caught on something. She lost balance, screamed and toppled sideways, reaching out for anything to grab a hold of.

Unfortunately, Vegeta's front shirt was the only thing she grabbed and, with wide, surprised eyes, she took him down in a heap on the floor.

She blinked her eyes open after the dust cleared from their fall and groaned.

"Congratulations, woman, you've managed to fall. _Again_."

Bulma turned to give the man a glare but stopped short and sucked in a breath when she realized that she had fallen on top of him. He was laying spread eagled, a bored expression on his face and her face was mere centimeters away with her hands on his chest (strong...muscular chest) and legs in-between his.

She blushed at their intimacy and then closed her eyes. Was it just her or was something......_hard_ pressing against her leg?

Out of the blue, the memory of their last kiss flashed in her mind and she wondered if (_or prayed_ _that_) he'd do it again.

Don't be stupid, she told herself, he _doesn't_ want you. He was just trying to get you frazzled.

The scientist opened her eyes and had to hold back a gasp when she saw the look on his face.

His eyes, as dark, probing and ominous as ever, were staring at her, unblinking. His mouth was slightly curved upwards and he had subconsciously moved his arm around her waist.

"Woman," He said quietly, intensely. "Do you still believe you could meet my demands?"

She considered the question and gulped. She saw all the hidden meanings coursing through it immediately. Either he had asked her something very, very personal or she was imagining things.

Bulma took another look at him and bit her lip. He looked sensual, fierce and mysterious all at once. A bad combination. This wasn't in her imagination.

But, instead of backing off, she breathed, "I can handle anything you give me."

A smirk graced his features. "Is that so?" His hand lowered and she bit the inside of her mouth. "You really shouldn't try your luck with someone as...untamed as me."

"Wild animals are untamed. People can tame themselves." She led a finger down his chest. "Or, in some circumstances, others have to tame them."

He liked her boldness at the moment. And she was quite bold, he realized with raised eyebrows when he felt her hand reach his inner thighs. "That's the thing." He smirked graciously. "I'm a monkey, after all."

"You can take the primate out of the wild but you can't take the wild out of the primate?" She asked, her voice taking on a low, more seductive tone.

Suddenly, their positions flipped. Bulma found herself under him in less then a second, his penetrating gaze on her face, a cunning half smile on his lips. "My point exactly."

His voice was different, she suddenly noticed. It was still deep but it was.....silkier, sexier and full of lust yet still in control. Always in control. Always sharp and precise and critical. She suddenly wondered what he'd be like in bed.

Explosive.

"Are you going to kiss me or what?" Bulma was baffled by her own words and thoughts. She hadn't realized she was saying them until the last syllable had been uttered. Some unseen force must have been propelling her towards him because there was no way, in her right mind, would she ever initiate something like this with the same arrogant bastard who had insulted her, her family and friends. No way.

Right?

Yet here she was, lying under this emotionally and physically abused, cautious, virile man who could magically turn around and speak to her in a husky, crazily attractive voice while sending chills down her spine with his murky eyes, and praying that he would claim her mouth with his own.

And he did.

* * *

Bwaha. I bet she forgot all about her ex now. What was his name? Haha. That wasn't a cliffhanger was it? ;P

R&R! I'd love some feedback. Next chapter should be out soon!


	9. I Like A Challenge

First off, I apologize. This chapter was pretty hard to write because I think writers' block finally attacked me, haha. But I'm back and hey, I don't know how good this chapter is going to be to you guys. It's kind of...blah, not my best. You'll see.

But here's a recap;

_Yet here she was, lying under this emotionally and physically abused, cautious, virile man who could magically turn around and speak to her in a husky, crazily attractive voice while sending chills down her spine with his murky eyes, and praying that he would claim her mouth with his own._

_And he did._

* * *

Chapter Eight

* * *

Or he _would_ have. His lips were inches from hers, his eyes were boring into hers and his hold on her was tightening in anticipation.

Then, _of course_, someone interrupted.

The door swung open and more light shined down into the dimly lit room, almost spotlighting the two individuals lying on the floor. They instantly broke apart; the prince rolling off of her while she sat up quickly, dusting herself off.

"Oh? Was I interrupting something?" It was her blond haired, giggling mother with some sort of basket in her hands. The elder woman's head cocked to the side as she watched them get to their feet, a blush forming on her daughter's cheek and a scowl forming on Vegeta's lips.

"Uh no!" Bulma strained through a forced smile. "No, you weren't. Uh...what did you want?"

Mrs. Briefs held up the basket in her hand. "Sandwiches!" She exclaimed happily.

Her daughter's face fell. "Wha-Mom, you just fixed sandwiches a few minutes ago, remember?"

The elder woman blinked. "Did I?"

Bulma clenched her fist and her right eye twitched. Before she could respond however, the prince grumbled something and then marched out, pushing past the oblivious blond and disappearing up the steps. The blue haired genius watched him go with a mixture of relief and disappointment. Her mind was jumbled and disorientated from what _could_ have happened. And, the worst part was that she had initiated it! Was she crazy? Yeah sure, she guessed that she was somewhat attracted to the short man but that didn't justify everything else. Besides the obvious fact that he was arrogant and spiteful, she had just broken up with Yamcha!

She sighed. Hopeless; that was what she was. A hopeless, love craving, whore. Her luck with men was horrible and her feelings _always_ betrayed her. Nothing good would come out of hooking up with Vegeta.

Yet would it hurt to try? He was obvious attracted to her as well (_at least physically_). And they were grown ups, they were in charge of their own actions and damn it, they had emotions and urges as well. Sleeping with him didn't have to imply that anything _else_ would happen after wards. Because, she was quite sure, that he didn't want to form a relationship either. So what would one fling do?

Bulma furrowed her eyebrows at her own thoughts and sighed heavily again. Was she seriously contemplating a _one night stand_ with Vegeta!? No way, she wasn't that type of gal, nuh uh.

So why had she considered it?

With a slump of her shoulders, Bulma realized that her mother had skipped out as well, leaving her alone in the dust covered basement. She rolled her eyes and walked out as well, planning to get a few workers to come back down with her later to get the prototype.

Because, at the moment, she wanted a relaxing bath and a good nap. Then she'd even wish for hectic reporters and a shitload of clients. Anything, that could get her mind off of the flame haired prince that was, easily, turning her life upside down.

******

_Pat pat pat._

Dr. Briefs blew out a sigh but kept his eyes focused on the computer screen in front of him. His pet feline, Scratch, was underneath his leg, nestled into a ball, sleeping peacefully.

_Pat pat pat._

The purple haired man faulted for a split second, his eye twitching and then he went pushed past the sound to concentrate on the task at hand: building the new GR.

_Pat pat pat._

Focus, keep focus, he told himself, clenching the computer mouse tightly.

_Pat pat pat._

He broke. "Vegeta, is there something you wanted!?" The man asked in a barely restrained voice, turning around in his swivel chair to face the prince. He had arrived back down in his lab a few minutes ago. Peculiarly, however, he hadn't said a word but just began to pace back and forth, back and forth. He had been doing it for a whole thirty minutes now and it was bothering the good doctor greatly. "I thought you were helping Bulma with the-"

"She can handle it."

The elder genius watched in dismay as the flame haired male continued his restless pacing, his face masked over with a quiet calm, obvious distressed from his jerking movements. Dr. Briefs rolled his eyes and left him alone. One thing he didn't want to do was make him angry...or angrier.

Vegeta was barely aware of his motions. His eyes were focused on the carpeted floor and his mind was scattered all over the place. Or at least, that was what it seemed like when, in actuality, they were centered on one topic:

The blue haired woman.

Scowling, Vegeta clenched his hands into fist and subconsciously quickened his pace.

He had kissed her. Or almost, at least. He had _almost_ kissed her.

For the second time.

The first kiss hadn't been much of anything, had it? No, just a simple thing he had done to show her up, to make her confused and befuddled because she looked attractive when she was-

He stopped. Attractive!? No, no, not _attractive_ but amusing. Yes, she looke_d amusing_ when she was baffled.

Either way, the second kiss hadn't had that same intention. So why had he almost done it? What was the purpose?

Lust.

Alright, he thought wryly, that was an okay reason. The woman wasn't especially ugly. Well fine, she was attractive-

He growled. There was that word again. He refused to believe that he was..._.that word_...to her. Because that meant he had _feelings_ for her, correct? And he did not. Unless you counted the negative feelings she brought out of him; annoyance, irritation, detest.

He was getting off topic. What had he been trying to figure out again? Ah yes, the kiss and why it had occurred.

Why, the answer was obvious! He suddenly thought with a smirk. She had asked him to! She had started it. _She wanted_ _him_.

Yet that still didn't explain why he had obliged. His smirk vanished. Now what could explain that?

Recap, he told himself. It was time to recap. What did he know? One, Bulma wanted him. Two, something, some force of unnatural senses, was compelling him towards _her_. But he did not _want_ her. He despised her. Yet, lust was evident and so, he could have just wanted her _body_.

Well, there it was, he shrugged, he wanted to fuck her.

Now, that wasn't necessarily bad, was it? He frowned. Not as bad as he making it out to be anyway. Yes, she was a weakling human and yes, he shouldn't have been thinking of mating-_screwing_-the brains out of someone from this god awful planet especially someone who he hated and irritated him as much as_ her_.

But he wanted to and _she_ wanted to as well. That much was fairly obvious.

Vegeta put two fingers to the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "I'm making a big deal out of nothing."

"What was that?"

The Saiyan Prince looked up to see Dr. Briefs staring at him quizzically and his eyes widened at the thought that the doctor might have been watching him the whole time. "N-Nothing."

The purple haired man squinted his eyes in suspicious. "You sure have been acting strange. Are you okay?"

"Y-yes you buffoon!" He exclaimed suddenly in anger. "Now, stop worrying about things that have nothing to do with you and fix that damn machine before I bash your face in!" Then, he stomped out.

Dr. Briefs blinked in surprise. "Wow, someone's defensive." He chuckled.

******

Bulma tip toed through the dark halls of Capsule Corporation warily. She had just done what she planned; taking a bath and then napping. Unfortunately, she hadn't meant to nap for so long. It was close to ten forty five at night now and she wondered if her father had covered for her like he always did. It made her feel guilty at times when she had to rely on her father and place her work on his shoulders. He had already taken full credit of the 'fighting incident' that had occurred a few days ago on the front lawn, telling the reporters that it had all be an experiment he was testing and that it had went awry. He had even taken in all the criticism and nasty comments on the front page and news with a grin, joking to her that maybe Vegeta _should_ have fried those reporters.

She knew he was just being his nice, helpful self and that he hated when she was blamed. Yet his selfless actions never made Bulma feel better. They simply made her feel even guiltier and a little angry that he didn't think she was strong enough to run the company alone.

As the blue haired girl poked her head into the dark kitchen, dressed in her favorite flimsy white nightgown, she was delighted to find it empty. Not only was she trying to remain quiet so her parents wouldn't wake up but she was working awfully hard to avoid one certain Saiyan Prince.

Her comforting bath and lazy, restored nap had only done so much to get her mind off of him. Actually, she had _dreamed_ of him. How great was that? Dreaming, _once again_, about a person you'd like to forget. Her subconscious was her own enemy these days.

But she didn't see any sight of the thick eye browed man and she didn't hear any sudden sounds. What do you know, she thought with a laugh, maybe he took his arrogant self off to bed at a reasonable time.

She blissfully poured a cup of cold coffee her mother had probably made earlier on, whistling a tune and dancing to it. If there was one thing that could make her upbeat, it was the dark brown liquid she loved more then anything. Nothing could ruin her good mood at the moment.

She turned to sit down at the table and that was when she saw it. Her eyebrows shot up, her eyes widened and her mouth opened to scream.

It was menacing, large (to her, at least) and quite ugly looking with its many tentacle-like legs and deformed body.

A spider.

The shriek that escaped out of Bulma's mouth was piercing and loud as she stumbled backwards. Her grip loosened and the cup fell, breaking into pieces as the coffee splattered onto the tiled floor. She lost her footing and went down as well, pain shooting up her shoulder when it hit the side of the table, causing the unsteady thing to fall over as well, tumbling on top of her limp body with a definite and resounding _thud_.

Silence.

A few beats later, the kitchen light flickered on and Bulma groaned as she opened her eyes to look up at a fuzzy, darkened shadow. She blinked a few times to focus and when she realized who it was she couldn't help but groan again.

"You know," He started with a smirk. "The sad thing is; this sight doesn't surprise me."

"Very funny, Vegeta." She spat out, motioning to the table lying on top of her. "Now could you get this off of me? I think it's smashing one of my lungs."

"Let's hope it's completely irreparable. Then maybe you wouldn't talk so much." He ignored her glare and effortlessly lifted it off of her, placing it neatly back in its original position. And, to her surprise, he offered his hand to her. She blinked and took it quickly before he changed his mind and let him pull her up.

Once standing, she stretched her back and moaned in pain, holding her side. How clumsy could she be? She thought in embarrassment. And, of course, Vegeta would come to her 'rescue.' Just her luck. She wondered where her parents were and was a bit angry at the thought that they were probably still sound asleep unlike Vegeta, whom seemed to never rest.

She dared a glance at the short male and only blushed deeper when she realized he was staring stoically at her exposed legs. Pulling down her short nightgown (that she now regretted wearing), she shot him a disapproving glare.

He glanced up to meet her eyes and she intensified the glare. Then he did something weird and unexpected; he moved towards her and reached for her leg.

She instantly jumped back. "Hey, you pervert, what are you doing-"

"There's a cut on your leg."

Bulma's face froze and she looked down to indeed see a nice scratch trailing down her thigh, blood oozing out of it. She wondered why she hadn't felt it and felt her cheeks heat up even _more_ at what she had thought he was doing. Maybe he would let it go.

One look at his face told her he wouldn't. He smirked at her accusation, cocked his head to the side slightly and asked, "Pervert?"

She blew out a sigh and looked away. "Sorry." She muttered before glancing down at the floor. The large brown stain spreading brought her back to her senses and she grabbed a handful of paper towels and cleaned it up along with the broken glass.

After she was done, Vegeta pointed to a chair. "Sit."

"Excuse me, I-"

"Sit."

Bulma slowly slid onto the kitchen chair and tried to conjure up an annoyed look at his command but it was replaced by curiosity when he dragged over a chair and sat across from her, dangerously close. "Let me see your leg."

"I can take care of-"

"Let me see it."

As she brought up her leg for his inspection, she wondered why she kept doing what he instructed and why he cared in the first place. He didn't look angry or sensual or even concerned. He just looked...calm and quiet. Maybe that was why she was quickly obeying him...because he looked.....at ease and placid instead of taut and livid. And his touch was so...supple. She felt places on her body heat up that shouldn't have.

She watched him softly take her leg and place it on his knee, turning it slowly and looking the cut over. Now she thought about it, up close, the scratch looked rather large and deep. She felt her stomach lurch at the blood and put a hand over her mouth.

He noticed her reaction. "What's wrong?" Calm, collected voice.

"I-Blood nauseates me."

That amused him to some extent because his mouth twitched into a smirk. "It's not fatal." She thought he sounded a bit sarcastic. "But it's pretty deep. Just put some antibiotics on it and bandage it up." He then gently placed her leg back on the floor and she stared at him in utter disbelief.

He scowled at her expression. "What?"

"You can't do that." She told him in a slight pout.

"Can't do what?"

"That!" Bulma gestured wildly at him as he stood up. "You can't be mean and volatile one day and then nice and caring the next."

Vegeta's face turned bemused and he folded his arms across his chest. "And why not?"

"Because! It doesn't work that way!" She was fully aware of how childish she sounded but she didn't care. She was sick and tired of his mood swings that were making her confused.

"_What_ doesn't work that way?"

"People!" The blue haired mogul exclaimed. "People don't work that way! You can't do something and then act completely different after wards, damn it!"

He was slightly taken aback and angered by her outburst. "So you think everything's suppose to be black and white?"

"Yes." Bulma said, a bit more quietly. "Everything is _suppose_ to be simple." _He_ was suppose to be simple. Or, at least, she wanted him to be simple....didn't she!? Damn it, she was confused again! "Never mind." She huffed in exasperation. "I-I don't know. Just-I don't know."

And that was right. She _didn't know_. She had no idea what was happening to her. She _didn't know_ why this man was stirring emotions inside of her that she hadn't even known existed. She couldn't even understand what had caused her to say the things she was saying now. Maybe she was just stressed; she thought dryly, she needed a vacation for goodness sakes.

"So that's what you want? A simple life?"

Bulma glanced up to meet his murky, guarded eyes. She opened her mouth but quickly shut it. Her life had never been simple and the people around her weren't simple at all. She had grown up around complicated men and women all her life. So the real question was; was she happy with difficult or did she thrive for simple?

But instead of answering directly, she asked, "Don't you?"

Vegeta stared at her for a bit and then answered confidently without hesitation, a smirk spreading over his lips. "Of course not. I like a challenge."

It was then, after he voiced it out loud, when Bulma realized in slight dismay and relief that she felt the exact same way.

They locked eyes and she wondered what he was thinking and she hoped, in spite of herself, that he'd kiss her again.

Suddenly, his eyes narrowed and he leaned down. The blue eyed woman sucked in a breath and knew that it was coming; he was starting from where he left off earlier that day. There'd be no interruptions here.

But instead, he stretched his arm and then retracted it slowly, holding something in his hand that was wiggling. Bulma's face paled when she realized what it was.

The spider.

"This was in your hair." Vegeta stated, one dark, thick eyebrow raised.

Then he watched in disbelief as the blue haired woman fainted.

* * *

Blah. See what I mean by 'not my best'? Review if you wish but I understand if you don't.

_-TBS._


	10. When He Trains

^_^ -- That's me smiling because people actually _liked_ the last chapter, haha. I appreciate the positive reviews guys. Thanks.

Enjoy.

* * *

Chapter Nine

* * *

Entry 01:

_Its February 9th...or 10th, I'm not quite sure.....I've been drifting lately. Aηywho, I've taken to write in this again: My diary. I actually feel kind of...childish for this. I mean, I haven't written in this thing since I was...what? Eleven....or maybe thirteen...right before I entered high sch_oo_l._

_But who cares? I'm a grown woman and this is perfectly natural. Ladies have diaries too right? Even some men do. Either way, I like writing. It takes my mind off of...other matters._

_And by other matters, I mean a certain proud prince of Saiyans that is living in my home. Yeah, I'll have to explain how he came to be here later, diary. The point is; he's here and more annoying than ever. He's crazy and uncontrolled and tense and angry at the damn time. Did I tell you he's made the Gravity Room explode? And that's he's fought Yamcha, harassed my father and almost EVERY worker here and orders me around everyday. AND he calls me 'Woman'! As if I don't have a name! Sometimes I just want to slap him!_

_Oh hehe, I've done THAT before. Awesome right? Put him right in his place. I swear, if I weren't such the nice, kind, and beautiful woman that I am then I would have kicked his ungrateful ass out a long time ago._

_So that's why I'm wondering something._

_Why is such a spiteful man attracting my attention?_

_Yes, I know what you're thinking: Bulma, are you insane? He's a maniac._

_But he's really not all THAT bad. Sure, he's irritating at times and macho but isn't every guy that why? Besides...he can be...comforting and almost soft at times. We've even kissed! Almost TWICE, at that. And when I tell you he's a good kisser, I MEAN he's a good kisser. If I went into more detail then...wow...you..._

_Okay enough of that. I'm tired of thinking about it; it's stuck in my head! Back on subject._

_Sometimes....rarely, Vegeta shows a....a more caring side to him. It's a strong adjective to use and slightly over exaggerating. It's more like he shows a...calmer side to his persona. There's definitely more shades to him as I originally thought._

_And so help me, I want to figure out each one._

_PS: Diary, it's been seven days since I've spoken to Yamcha after our breakup. That's right; a whole freaking week. He's scum. I hate him. Gosh, I wish he'd die. I hope the Androids blow him to pieces...he's such a pig!!! _

_PSS: Okay, I take that back diary. That was a horrible thing to say. SO horrible. I'm not normally this hostile. I just....I wish he'd call at least..._

_PSSS: Diary, am I a hopeless love addict? I mean, do I need a man to fulfill me? Well...it's.........maybe I'm needy?_

_PSSSS: I take that back as well, I know I'm not needy. I'm just going through a phase. Maybe I really should take a vacation?_

**_-_****β_ulm_α β_ri_ε_fs._**

*****

Bulma cracked her eyes open reluctantly and blew out a sigh as she came awake with a big yawn. Another sigh escaped her mouth when she turned to glance at the clock beside her bed. She was running behind drastically. Stupid alarm. It always malfunctioned. Turning onto her back, she laid spread eagled and stared at the ceiling. It was well past eleven o'clock and she knew that the world was already up and alive while she milled around. It wouldn't wait for her to drag her ass out of bed because, even if she sometimes wished it did, the planet didn't revolve around her.

She heard some shouting and yelling downstairs and rolled her eyes. The voice was unmistakable. She knew one person who really believed his life was the center of everyone else's.

The woman lifted herself off her comfy bed and didn't bother to change out of her flimsy nightgown as she trekked downstairs in search of coffee. Her hair was tousled and uncombed, her eyes were sunk in and she knew she must have looked like hell.

Her assumption was only proved further when she ran into Vegeta and caught his wide eyed look before he wiped it away and scowled, watching her start a cup of coffee. Ever since her father had repaired the GR five days ago, they barely talked anymore. Neither had mentioned the kiss, neither had mentioned the ALMOST second kiss and neither had made much effort to bring them up. And, since the prototype metal had been installed, the damage done to Gravity machine had decreased sufficiently. It was a giant success. No more explosions or fires.

But, quite frankly, after passing out in his company, Bulma had been grateful about his aloof attitude. And any time they did run into each other, she'd scurry away with red cheeks. Déjà vu.

But now, as she waited for her drink to get done, she didn't feel embarrassed at all. She probably looked like a walking mummy, standing under his gaze and she didn't even care. Her indifference both surprised and made her feel good. What did that mean? That her feelings for him (whatever they had been) were fading?

Or was she just sick of her life?

Vegeta noted her withered expression and, of course, he smirked. Because when she was miserable, he was ecstatic. "Wow woman, you're looking especially _beautiful_ today."

She forced a smile at his sarcasm and let it fade slowly. "Why thank you. I see you're finally learning how to appreciate true beauty."

"True beauty? _You_?"

"That's right."

"Heh, delusional." He snorted, rolling his eyes.

"You're one to talk, Mr. I am the greatest."

"I am the greatest."

"Only in your dreams."

"Or in yours."

Bulma saw the glint of mischief in his eye and, for a fleeting moment, she thought that he knew about the dreams she had had that featured him and she narrowed her eyes in anger. The coffee pot went off and she turned to pour herself a cup and dismissed the thought. He had simply been teasing her. Which was, now that she thought about it, not like him at all. She glanced up from her cup to stare at him as he stuck his head in the fridge and realized that he _did_ look a bit...cheerier.

"You're in a good mood." She leaned back on the corner, the mug between both hands. The heat radiating from it, burning her palms didn't bother her. She was much too tired and weary for it to.

He turned to give her a raised eyebrow. "Can't say the same for you."

She gulped down some coffee. "Yeah. I don't feel very good."

"I figured. Shouldn't you be off doing something? Like, for instance, your job?"

Bulma sighed. She really didn't think she was up enough to deal with her clients. "I'm in no mood for those know-it-all men who walk around on their own pedestals and look down on women as if they're inferior and wastes of space."

Vegeta's face twitched slightly but he remained placid. "They don't sound that bad."

"Of course you wouldn't think so. You're just like them."

"I don't think of women as wastes of space."

"You don't?"

"Of course not. They cook, after all. And wash my clothes and obey my every command. Not wastes of space. Just little minions."

She shot him a mean glare that only managed to amuse him even more because the corner of his mouth turned up into a lopsided smile. She looked down at her empty cup, wondering briefly where all her coffee went and thought about throwing it at the infuriating male. "You're terrible."

"Compliments will get you no where."

The woman sighed and set her cup down. "So why exactly are you out of the GR? You've been locked up in that thing for decades. I thought for sure you'd emerge with a beard down to your knees." Then she squinted at her own statement. "Hey wait, why _don't_ you grow beards? And how come your hair doesn't grow?" The realization made her purge deep into her mind and try to bring up a memory of seeing the Saiyan with excess hair. She couldn't think of one.

"The hair that Saiyans are born with is all they will have until death."

"Wow." Bulma blinked. "Kinda weird."

"You'd rather see me with a beard?" Vegeta cocked his head to the side slightly, expression almost analyzing.

She pictured it in her mind and shuddered. "Not especially."

"I can grow a beard."

"No, thank you."

He stared at her for a bit, his look guarded. But under the facade, Bulma could swear that she saw something. Curiosity? Was he trying to figure out what she liked in men? The thought was so absurd she actually let out a little squeak of laughter. He didn't give a damn about her or what she thought. He had made that perfectly clear when he had explained his view on women.

Yet he had kissed her. _But_, he was a man after all. And he considered females nothing but play things. So, what? He had wanted sex and went for it.

Her own analyzing didn't make her feel any better. For the last few days she had given herself the delusional fantasy that he had kissed her because of a strange but strong attraction(_probably because that was how _she_ felt_). If she began to think he just saw her as a tool, her self confidence would decrease tenfold.

And she honestly didn't need _another_ man breaking her down.

She watched him exit without a word and something suddenly occurred to her: She didn't _know_ much about the man. Sure, she knew the superficial facts like how temperamental he could be or his 'ultimate' goal but she didn't know anything personal. The revelation made her even more confused. It wasn't like he'd tell her anything so why was she thinking about it? He was like a closed book with multiple locks on it.

Bulma wondered what key she needed.

"Vegeta!" She took off at a dead run after him and caught him just before he stepped outside into the backyard. He turned to give her an almost apprehensive look before frowning. After she caught her breath (_boy was she out of shape_), Bulma grinned widely and it looked weird to him after seeing the apathetic look she had pulled off in the kitchen. Talk about a mood swing. "Where are you heading?"

The question made him frown deeper. "Where do you think, woman? To train." He watched her brighten up and started to get angry at her liveliness. "What is it you wanted?"

"Uh...well...you see-"

"Spit it out."

"Could I come watch you train?" Her grin turned sheepish and she even gave him a flutter of her eyelashes. Vegeta gave her a look of utter disbelief that probably covered up the slight blush on his cheeks from her flirtatious smile.

"What?" Had he heard wrong?

"_Train_. Can I watch you train?"

"Wh-For what?"

She blinked. "Would that bother you?"

"Yes. For one, you'd be in the way."

"I promise I won't."

He narrowed his eyes. "Where exactly would you be then?"

Bulma laughed nervously and smile again. "I installed a camera in the top. I won't even be in the room."

The first thing that flashed across his face was surprise and then fury took over and his fist clenched. He spat out, through clenched teeth, "Who told you to install that? I said-"

"I know, I know but it was just for a safety measure. In case you trained yourself to death." It was her turn to narrow her blue eyes. "Besides, I heard my father _increased_ the gravity options."

He growled at the statement but said nothing. Later on, he'd have to bash the doctor's face in. Not only had he let the woman install something against his wishes but he had went back on their deal to keep the new gravity settings a secret.

"I forced it out of him, by the way." She continued, obviously proud at her achievement.

"You guile woman."

The blue haired mogul waved his statement off. "You two should know better. So," Her eyes widened and her eyebrows shot up. "Can I watch or what?"

Vegeta tried his best to keep his angered scowl at the news just delivered to him but he couldn't help but sound intrigued as he asked, "Wh-why do you _want_ to?"

He got a shrug in reply. "Well, why not? I've heard you brag about your power ever since I met you. Is it such a crime that I want to see if you can back up all that talk?" Then she winked and he watched incredulously as she strolled out the door towards the backyard.

As much as the short man wanted to object, to tell her to leave him be, to claim that she would be a distraction, he couldn't. And, as he thought about it, he didn't really want to.

Because, for the very first time in his short life, someone was interested in what he loved. In what he spent most of his time doing. Someone wanted to see him train without judging his every move or punishing him if he did something wrong. A _woman_, at that. The same woman who drove him insane.

But surprisingly, that made him feel good. Hell, it made him feel better than good.

It made him feel.....almost jovial.

As the shorter Saiyan followed the woman out, he smirked and the wall of loneliness that had been lurking around him ever since he arrived on Earth weakened.

"Fine," He said, as he walked up behind her, hands on hips. "You can watch but you have to do something first."

"That would be?" She asked, turning around and cocking her head to the side.

Vegeta gave her a quick once over and said dully, "Fix yourself up." He then chuckled lowly at her glare and watched her stomp back inside, barely dodging the punch she sent towards his shoulder.

******

Raw. Intense. Concentrated. Alert.

Those were the words that first came to Bulma's mind as she watched Vegeta through her laptop intensely, her eyes unblinking. She was sitting on the lawn, right outside of the Gravity Machine with her laptop in front of her. It had been relatively easy to connect the camera to the device and have it play the feedback it was seeing on the screen. She had been watching the man train for what seemed like hours and it only bothered her once that she had ditched all of her clients for the day. It wasn't as if she did this everyday. What would one day off do?

She squirmed but didn't take her eyes off the small screen. She had been so interested in him that she hadn't peed or eaten the entire time.

But she thought her sacrifices were worth it. Her eyes locked onto the muscular Saiyan, his upper body bare and watched him as he twirled around and punched at invisible enemies. It was a wonder how his actions could put her in such a trance. How his focused face made _her_ become more focused. How his power seemed to give her renewed strength. He generated masculinity and his bulging muscles made her feel feminine and small. Sweat rolled down his body yet she was the one who felt hot. _Real_ hot.

He dropped down to do push ups and her stomach growled, breaking her daze. She tore her eyes away from the male to glance down at her tummy and grimaced. Then, all her decisions came to bite her in ass and she shot to her feet. Her bladder and hunger almost toppled her over as she ran into the building.

When she returned back outside, she realized that the sky had darkened. _Wow, how long had she been sitting_? Her legs had felt like pudding and she had had to eat over six oranges and three sandwiches to stop her hunger pains. She understood now how Vegeta could get so lost in his training. It was almost hypnotic.

She was barely surprised to sit down in her original position beside the GR and find that Vegeta hadn't stopped or halted at all. From his counting, he was apparently on number five hundred sixty two of his push ups. His determination was overwhelming, she pondered. It made her feel lazy and slacking.

Because she had thought ahead this time, Bulma pulled out the bag of chips she had brought with her and started to munch on them, her blue eyes locking back onto the sweating, bare chested male once more.

And, in the back of her mind, almost in her subconscious, she thought that she'd be able to watch him all night. Then she thought that she wouldn't mind watching him tomorrow night. Or the night after that. Or the many nights after that.

She'd watch him until he tired. She'd watch him until he went to bed. She'd watch him until he made Super Saiyan.

Because she knew, knew more than anything else, that he'd reach his goal.

And she wanted to be there to watch his expression when he did. In her mind she pictured it; his face flickering in astonishment and then morphing into complete happiness.

Yes, for some unfathomable reason, Bulma would have given anything to see him happy. To see him smile. To _watch_ him.

Then, randomly and without feeling disgust at her own thoughts, she wondered what it'd be like to watch him sleep beside her; his muscles relaxed, his eyes closed, his expression one of peace.

******

Entry 02:

_Diary, I think I've made a major break through, honestly. You remember Vegeta right? Saiyan Prince? Haughty? Proud man?_

_Well, I've just watched him train for six hours straight and I feel as though I understand him so much more from it. Is that weird? I thought it was at first but now that I think about it, it's not. Shouldn't it be obvious that, although he probably doesn't know it, his guarded expression drizzles down when he trains?_

_I saw his anger, his frustration, and his determination._

_And yes I know what you're thinking; doesn't he always show these emotions?_

_Well, I saw others as well. I saw the pain when he hurt himself, I saw panic flicker across his face from time to time and then, when he finally exited, I saw something he probably tried to keep hidden from observing eyes:_

_I saw disappointment. Disappointment that he hadn't reached his goal. Disappointment at his lack of strength. Maybe even a flash of sadness._

_And when I saw that in his eyes I couldn't help but feel saddened as well._

**_-_****β_ulm_α β_ri_ε_fs._**

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^_^ Reviews are appreciated, blah, blah, blah. Hope you liked this chapter. Yep, I'm going to try and sum this up real soon.

BTW: Does anyone else find it weird that, during the Cell saga, Vegeta claimed that full blooded Saiyans couldn't grow hair and then he got a beard in GT? A glitch, maybe? Anyway, that's where I got the idea for that little, weird scene in this chapter, haha.

Until next time.


	11. The Game of Chess

Enjoy ^_^

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Chapter Ten

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Entry 09;

_Sorry to break the news to you diary, but there's nothing terribly exciting I have to write in you today as well. I know, sad huh?_

_I learned the first time that my line of work wasn't meant to be skipped and I had so much work to catch up on but it's all good now and there's an almost steady pace to things. Actually, it's been the same routine for a straight week. I wake up, eat breakfast, go to work and then come home or take a few hours off to watch Vegeta train._

_And, believe it or not, watching him is the highlight of my day. That's probably the only time I see him throughout the day unless he decides to join me for breakfast but that only happens rarely. Normally, he's already fed and out to the GR before I even crack open an eye._

_Although it doesn't seem like it to others, things have changed between us. Yes, we still yell and argue and throw insults around like its nobody's business but...I don't know...I feel almost....connected to him. As if we're...friends, on a very peculiar level. He's softened a bit and I think it's because I watch him train. I think he likes when I do that. He doesn't even argue with me about it anymore. _

_Why, one time, I peeked outside and saw him setting up the laptop and laying out a blanket._

_PS: Yamcha still hasn't called, left a text, dropped by or asked my friends about me. But...it's not bugging me so much anymore. Actually, it's not bugging me at all. Okay fine, just a bit but it's slowly fading and becoming nothing but a dull ache._

_PSS: Vegeta still hasn't brought up the kiss and I'm much to chicken to. Well fine, I'm not chicken but...I don't know...I kinda want to wait for him to say something about it. The last thing I want is to make a move and have it rejected. How embarrassing would that be?_

_PSSS: I really wish he'd kiss me._

_PSSSS: Diary, I think I have a crush on our Saiyan Prince. God can only help me now. *sighs*_

_*****_

Thick clouds gathered in the sky, sending a gloomy shadow across the sky. Rain poured from them, gray and dull as it spattered against the windows.

Bulma watched the downpour from the living room window, a slight frown on her face, a defeated slump of her shoulders. Normally, she would have welcomed the rain. She would have curled up in her room, got out a book and enjoyed the piece of quiet.

But now, she wasn't as joyous. Because rain this heavy meant that she couldn't lay out in front of the Gravity Room, plug up her laptop to the camera installed and watch a certain flame haired male work his butt off.

So the blue haired heiress let out a deep sigh, flopped onto the couch and watched a sitcom on the television that wasn't funny but still had the audience laughter in the background. One man and two halves, it was called. She had just arrived back from meetings and was of for the rest of the day so she was lounging around in grey sweatpants and a grey tank top, her hair was left to cascade down her shoulders and she had a fleeting thought to cut it.

"Bulma dear?"

The blue haired woman turned slightly to see her father walk in. He wasn't dressed in his usual white lab coat and pants but had on a long sleeved black shirt with jeans and she smiled up at him. Apparently, he was off duty for the rest of the day as well.

"Hey dad, what's up?" She asked as he took a seat beside her.

"Nothing really. It's raining pretty bad outside so I've decided to continue my inventions tomorrow. I always think better when it's sunny." He smiled and she rolled her eyes playfully. "What about you?"

"Just watching T.V."

He noted her sad look. "Hm. I thought you'd be watching Vegeta train."

"It's raining, as you pointed out so I can't."

Dr. Briefs noted her sharp tone and slightly narrowed eyebrows and tried to hold back a smile with no prevail.

"What? Why are you smiling?"

He shrugged. "You seem bummed about not being able to watch him."

Bulma narrowed her eyes slowly and knew immediately what her father was getting it. It wasn't a secret that she spent most of her nights observing the Saiyan. Why, most of the workers often asked her jokingly when she walked past them, 'GR time?' right before they winked suggestively. Up until now, she hadn't really thought anything of it and played along with her own laughter and winking but now, as she stared at the doctor's expression, she got the impression that he thought something was going on between the prince and her.

_Something_ as in a 'relationship'. And that made her angry. If only for the fact that information like that was personal and that no one else had any business trying to pry.

And because it wasn't true even if, deep down in a part of subconscious she'd rather not acknowledge, she wished it was.

So she just mumbled, "I guess."

Dr. Briefs noted the curt reply as well and let it go. Instead, he brightened said, "I know a way to cheer you up!"

Bulma watched with a raised eyebrow as her purple haired father raced out of the room and returned a few minutes later with a clear bag filled with jingling items. When he sat back down, she saw what was inside and couldn't help but grin.

He laid out the board and set up the pieces, a glint of a challenge in his blue eyes. "Care to play some chess?"

She made a big show of putting her hands on her hips and said dramatically, "Father, must I embarrass you so?"

The man laughed and brought up a chair to take his spot behind the white chess pieces while she slid behind the darker ones. Both father and daughter transformed to solemn faces as they begun the game. It was one of their favorite pastimes with each other and possibly the only time Dr. Briefs had gotten a chance to spend time with her. Although they both shared scientific brains, there was no getting past the most obvious fact that she was indeed a girl and most of her time was spent shopping with her mother and obsessing about boys. Aside from the times when she snuck down into his lab, chess was the only alone time they had together when she was smaller.

Now, as adults, it seemed idyllic and refreshing.

Twenty minutes later, with a giddy Bulma and a frustrated looking Dr. Briefs, the game was almost finished. One lone white King stood on the board surrounded by a darker King, Queen and two knights. The excitement in the woman's face was palpable. She was moving her legs, smiling widely and wringing her hands. In her whole twenty six years of living, she had never beaten her father at chess. 99 to 0 was the score, she recalled.

He made a lame attempt and moved his King forward but it was already over. Bulma placed her piece, called out 'CHECKMATE!' and then started to jump up and down and sing and giggle all at once. Her father sat back and sighed but smiled in spite of the situation. She had gotten smarter alright.

Ninety nine to One.

Unbeknownst to them however, was the short figure standing a few feet from their game, half his body in shadow with a towel around his neck, a quizzical eyebrow raised and a can of soda in his hand.

Bulma noticed him when she turned to do some sort of thrusting dance with her lower body. Her eyes widened and she stopped dead in her tracks, arms raised over her head, a blush already creeping onto her cheeks. From the corner of her eye, she saw her father smirk devilishly.

"Well don't stop on account of my presence. It was actually quite enjoyable to watch." Vegeta smirked, raising the can to his mouth.

She quickly straightened and tried to conjure up a glare but it was hard to with her cheeks burning so she turned to glower down at Dr. Briefs who had begun to laugh. The doctor covered his mouth in a sorry attempt to hide his smile and hurried out of the room. Bulma could hear his guffaws all the way up the stairs.

"What is this?"

Bulma turned to see that the short male had walked over to the chess set and picked up a white pawn with his free hand. She blinked, still pretty embarrassed. "Uh...it's a pawn."

"What does it do?" He seemed genuinely curious. His smirk had disappeared to be replaced with a slight frown.

"Well...it's a piece of a game. This game." She pointed at the board. "It's called '_Chess_.' I guess you didn't have chess on your planet?"

He gave her a placid stare. "No, I did not." He set it down. "But I am familiar with what a pawn is. The lowest of all other warriors. Much like a peasant. On my planet, pawns were sent out before everyone else. They weren't meant to survive. They were just used for entertainment." Vegeta turned to give her a lopsided smile. "Kakarot could be labeled as a pawn."

She let it slide. "Yeah well, that's kind of what they're used for in Chess too." She set the pieces in their respected places. "See here? Pawns are placed before all others."

Vegeta mulled that over and then pointed. "And those other pieces?"

"Rooks, Knights, Bishops, Queen and King." Bulma told him as she pointed to each. She watched his concentrated expression, the same look he sometimes wore when he worked out and realized that he was intrigued.

"Play me."

The woman blinked and stood dumbfounded for a moment. "Huh?"

"Play me. In this game." He sat in the seat that her father had recently vacated, chugged down the rest of his soda, crushed it and threw it in the trashcan all in one swift movement. The towel around his shoulders thrown on the couch.

"Uh...you sure?" She smiled. "I'm pretty good. Maybe you should-"

"There is no one on this planet that is better than me at war." He cut her off harshly. "And this game seems to have the exact setup for a person going to war."

"Not exactly." Bulma said carefully, laughing nervously. "There are rules and restrictions to this game. It's not like-"

"So tell me what they are."

She huffed slightly at his sharp command but did as told, taking her original seat on the couch. Ten minutes later and Vegeta knew the rules and fundamentals for a game of chess. He had only interrupted once to complain about the Queen having more power than the King and how that was 'preposterous'. In his kingdom, the queen was always lower. It was only after she told him that the King was the key to winning did he accept it with a few grumbles.

"Still want to play?" A playful glint was in her cerulean eyes and he caught it.

"Ladies first."

Bulma frowned slightly and noted his intense gaze. He obviously was excited to play but she couldn't figure out why. To best her at it? To show her up? Or simply because it was the first thing on Earth that resembled and/or reminded him of his home planet?

He really wanted to play, she thought. The knowledge dug into her mischievous streak and a light bulb went off in her head. "Fine, I'll play you. BUT you'll have to follow one more rule."

He looked irritated when he asked evenly, "And what is that?"

A grin from her. "For each piece of yours that I take, you'll have to answer a question I ask."

There was a beat of silence where he just stared at her calmly as he took in the request. Then his face twitched into anger and he narrowed his eyes. "For what? Information about me is none of your business."

"That's true." She shrugged. "And if you don't want to then fine, I just won't play you. But then again," She feigned surprise. "If you refuse then that'll be like you admitting that you think you'll lose, correct?"

More silence and glaring from him. It was all she needed to know that he agreed with that she said. "Fine." He finally spat out. Then he smirked, "But for every piece I take of yours, you strip."

The horrified look from the woman made Vegeta smirk even wider. If she was going to force him to do something he'd rather not do then he would as well. His rule was made more for her aggravation than for his entertainment, however. Although the added perk of watching wouldn't be too bad either.

"My clothes!?"

He nodded.

"Pervert!" Was all she could think of to say.

Vegeta only shrugged, his smirk remained.

Bulma glanced down at her attire. All together she was only wearing four pieces of clothing; her sweatpants, underwear, bra and tank top. She wished that she had put on some socks.

"You don't have to if you don't want to." She heard him taunt from across from her. "Although refusing would be like admitting you'll lose, _correct_?"

She wanted to sucker punch him. While she was over here trying to get him to open up, he was busy trying to see her naked. Typical male. Although, she suspected that he had said it only to get her riled up. Vegeta just being Vegeta. But, instead of voicing any of this aloud or assailing him, she gave him an unimpressed look and said, "You're on. But make it every two pieces. I only have four items on."

He paused, considered it and then repeated, "Ladies first."

Bulma studied the board and moved one of her pawns up one position. He mimicked her movement with his pawn. They went on like that for a few turns, both working silently and carefully to keep their pieces out of the line of fire.

Then Bulma took one of his pawns and grinned. He growled and waited for her question.

"What's your favorite color?"

Utter disbelief crossed onto the Saiyan's face as he let the question sink in. Obviously, he hadn't thought she'd ask him_ that_. She wondered vaguely what he had suspected she would ask. He avoided her gaze and said lowly, "Blue."

She blinked as he observed the board for his next move and then smiled softly and fiddled with her blue locks. Maybe she wouldn't cut it...

"Woman, it's your turn."

Bulma snapped from her daze and got back into the game. Just because she had taken one, didn't meant he'd let her do it again.

Yet, a few turns later, he still hadn't taken one of hers and she got a second pawn. "How old are you?"

"Three years older than you."

"How do you know how old I am?"

"That's two questions." Then Vegeta moved his rook and took one of her pawns. She gulped and glanced down at her clothes once more before continuing. One more and she'd have to either take off her tank top or sweatpants. Neither were very good choices to her.

They went on for a few more turns where he didn't take another one of hers while she took two of his; another pawn and a knight. She had asked about his favorite food. He replied with a curt, "Chicken and Rice." and then she had asked about his choice between flying and shooting ki balls and gotten a slightly confused, "Flying." answer from him before they forged onwards. He hadn't looked especially frustrated or angry or nervous throughout the game. It just seemed quiet and focused.

Then it happened. He swapped out her rook with his bishop and sat back with a smirk, waiting.

Bulma blew out a sigh and cracked her knuckles before sliding off her tank top. And although she avoided his eyes, she could sense them on her while she bored holes into the board to determine her next move. She wondered if he noticed her red cheeks.

He watched her take the fourth pawn of his with her rook and didn't make a sound. She bit her lip and decided it was time to dwell deeper.

"Do you ever miss your home planet? Get homesick?"

Her question had been low but from the silence that followed, she knew that he had heard her. She didn't want to look at him because, for one, she was only wearing a bra over her midsection but also for the reason that she didn't want to see his expression. She pictured him looking outraged from her nerve at asking him such a personal question.

But, to her surprise, his voice was calm and almost indifferent when he responded with, "I can't miss a planet that was destroyed when I was five." Then he claimed her other rook.

The game continued. With Bulma avoiding his gaze and him not making a sound. Neither had managed to take another piece for a few turns until Vegeta captured one of her pawns.

Her face fell into a grimace and she began to take off her pants but his voice stopped her. "Don't. And put your shirt back on."

She whirled to look at him and saw that he was staring at her with a guarded look. His eyes, however, were flashing slightly. They stared for a beat before she did as told and put back on her tank top.

He sneered to himself as she moved her knight. He hadn't known why but something had possessed him to say that, to let her off the hook with his part of the bargain. Maybe the reason had been because she hadn't wanted to look at his face. Or because she been clearly uncomfortable. Days ago, he liked when she was embarrassed. Now, he could barely stand it. What the hell was going on?

They played some more in silence and Vegeta took three more of her pieces but he didn't make a motion to signal that she'd still have to strip so she didn't. And when she took one of his, she didn't ask a question.

He narrowed his eyes at that. "Well?"

She blinked, confused. "Well what?"

"Ask your question."

"Uh...but I thought...well I'm not stripping anymore so-"

But he waved it off and said with a heavy sigh, "Woman, ask."

Bulma furrowed her eyebrows at him. Sometimes, he made no sense whatsoever. She twirled a strand of her hair while she thought and then asked meekly, "Have you ever...uh..." Biting her lip, she continued, "...back when...uh...a queen? Was there a queen you..?" She cursed at her own sloppy sentences.

He caught on anyway. "You're asking about my sexual history." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

She knew her face probably resembled a cherry while she nodded.

Vegeta was amused. The woman could tell by his voice when he answered. "I've been to my fair share of brothels." It sounded as if he wanted to burst out in laughter.

Bulma wasn't sure if she felt angry, jealous or relieved. Maybe it was a mixture. So she remained silent as he went. More turns passed where he took some of her pawns and she got one of his as well. She asked something superficial and they kept going.

It got down to three white pieces on the board and three darker pieces. He still had his King, a knight and a rook while she had her bishop, King and a Queen. He moved his knight and she took it with her Queen.

This question would have to count, she thought. It was getting down to the nitty gritty and she wasn't sure if she'd get another chance at taking a piece. So, with that in mind, Bulma brought up the infamous incident, "Why'd you kiss me?"

She watched him stare downwards, his right eye twitching once before he answered. "Because I wanted to."

Bulma frowned. She didn't really know how to take that. Was it a good thing? Did that mean he wanted to kiss her because he _liked_ her or simply because he _wanted_ to get laid? She berated herself for her poor choice of words and watched as he moved his rook to take her bishop. With an overly aggressive grip, she swiped out the rook with her Queen.

"You're an arrogant jerk."

"That wasn't a question."

She simply frowned and he ignored her to move his King. It was in the bag, she thought matter-of-factly. All he had left was his King while she still had her Queen _and_ King. So, she quickly trapped him and called out victoriously, "Checkmate."

He didn't growl. Didn't grunt, didn't complain. He just assessed it, glanced at her and said, "You've got one more question to ask."

Bulma blinked in confusion before she looked down and noticed that indeed she did. Using her Queen, she took his King to symbolize her victory even more. She was more then surprised at his reaction. Why, she had predicated he'd throw a temper tantrum. Yet, he hadn't. He was just waiting for her last inquiry.

It was then when she realized that he liked it. All of it. He liked playing chess, he liked calculating his every move and he had liked when she asked him questions. He looked exactly the same way when she came to watch him train.

_He's just lonely. He's not used to people being interested in him....spending time with him.....and he likes that I am._

Her realization made the last question that much more easier. There wasn't a single tremor in her voice when she asked, "Are you attracted to me?"

Vegeta stared. He looked to be contemplating, studying her expression, searching for signs of trickery. His words from weeks ago came back to her:_ I don't leave room open for betrayal_. But he was right now, wasn't he? He was getting too close and she assumed that that scared him.

So she waited for his response and matched his gaze with one of her own that must have assured him because, a few minutes later, he said,

"I can show you better than tell you."

In a matter of seconds, she was pinned under him on the couch. His fingers wrapped around her wrist, his eyes narrowed and she saw lust coursing through them.

_Déjà Vu_, skirted through her mind right before he leaned down and kissed her.

The first word that ran through Vegeta's mind when his lips touched hers was;

_Damn._

He was quite sure that the path he was heading down would come back and blast him in the ass. And that path was right there, lying in front of him in the shape of a blue haired human female with astounding intellect, a flawless face and an infuriating attitude that, on some level, turned him on.

Yet his disdainful notions didn't seem to hold him back as he consumed her mouth, savoring the taste as if this would be the last time he'd ever kiss a woman or better yet, _this_ woman. Although, that thought would probably prove false. After all, this was their _second_ kiss.

And if the first kiss shared between Vegeta and Bulma had been fast, hard and unexpected then their second was slow, soft and anticipated.

Bulma wrapped her arms around his neck to keep him in place even though he made no attempt to pull back. She felt his fingers trail the elastic of her sweatpants and then lightly move underneath the fabric, sending shivers down her back at his soft touch. She wondered what he was thinking because her thoughts were all jumbled up. Was she really on the couch, below the man she_ supposedly_ hated with their lips locking in the most intimate of positions?

Better yet, did it matter? Wasn't this what she wanted? What they both wanted? Hadn't she been fussing over this for the last few weeks or so?

He moved to kiss her neck and she couldn't help but note how he contrasted with himself at times. How he could touch her so gently and then still appear hard. How he could stare at her calmly and speak with layers of intensity. The abrasive prince she had grown to know could drastically change.

That only seemed to deepen her curiosity towards him.

A moan escaped from her mouth when Vegeta ran a hand up her tank top to trace his thumb around her nipple. He watched the look of pleasure on her face and it hit him then:

She wasn't going to resist and he wasn't going to stop.

Bulma seemed to realize the same thing so she wasn't confused when he hopped off of her and glanced around. He then commenced to lead her towards the stairs, his hands on her wrist, pulling so hard and walking so fast that she was almost looked to be getting dragged.

"Vegeta!" She objected, nearly tripping. "Would you slow down? We-"

But he wasn't listening. He didn't even hear her. He simply flipped her onto his shoulder and made it to the stairs in less then two strides. A man on a mission.

Then the door bell rang.

He stopped momentarily, the woman over his shoulder before she said tightly, "Go."

The flame haired man made it to the third step before the door bell rang two more times. Almost frantically. He heard her sigh, a heavy, long sigh and knew what she was going to say before she muttered, "It might be an emergency." She sounded disappointed.

Vegeta set her on her feet and she saw the tenseness in his muscles. "Five minutes." He was giving her a time limit. Jeez! She thought will a roll of her eyes.

Bulma rushed downstairs and made it to the door before the bell could be rung again and opened it swiftly, hurriedly. Her face slowly transformed into a look of astonishment when she recognized the person staring at her sheepishly.

"Hey Bulma."

With a dry throat, she croaked uneasily, "Uh...hey Yamcha."

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I know, I know. If one person isn't interrupting, someone else is. Fret not, their time will come I hadn't even planned for this chapter to be so long, haha. Go me? *crickets chirp* Nice.

BTW: Thank you, my reviewers! I love the comments and I'm so glad you like my story. It means a lot to me. Hope you liked this chapter.


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